


Spider-X: Junior Year

by cocotiks



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, Wolverine and the X-Men - All Media Types, X-23 (Comic), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternative Timeline, Avengers Endgame, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, F/M, Hell's Kitchen, Keep reading to understand, New York, OC bad guys - Freeform, Other, Peter survives the Snap, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Queens New York, SPOILERS AVENGERS ENDGAME, Spider-Man - Freeform, What if Peter survived the snap?, X men - Freeform, X-23 was not made in a lab, alternative universe, highschool, original backstory
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2020-09-06 02:30:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 83,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20283919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cocotiks/pseuds/cocotiks
Summary: Peter is struggling to cope with the loss of his friends and the failure after the Battle with Thanos. He misses Ned, he's failing his classes and Mr. Stark just can't get off his back for it.As for Laura, the Blip caused more than just everyone to vanish, it also gave her powers. How is she supposed to deal with starting at MidTown but feeling like a freak half of the time? By putting on a mask and letting her fists deal with it for her.Trying to ace their mid-terms and moving on with their lives, when half of the world and their classmates are missing is still the hardest thing ever, but the forces of evil don't rest and take advantage of this tragedy.  When a missing teen move these heroes to team-up, they realise a more sinister plan is at play, that crosses universes and forces our heroes to grow up to face the greatest challenges of their lives in this new dark world.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone. What if Peter survived the Snap? How did the snap change the world and the people in it?  
So I love Spider-Man, I love X-23, but not a fan of her backtstory as it doesn't work in the context of the story I wanted to write. Now I'm not avid comic book reader so none of this is going to related much to actual characters from the comics unless I decide to add them in, this is purely my own imagination at play. 
> 
> The events begin at the moment Thanos' Snap occurs and come to present day where we are a year into 'the Blip.' Some characters we know survive, other's don't. I wanted to explore how the world in the early stages before Endgame.
> 
> Edit: I changed the name to junior year because to take account Peter and Laura's ages (I had no idea how the school system in the US works)

**Titan**

You know what.

He was really excited for the new architectural installations at the Museum of Modern Art. He told May he’d take pictures of them, and they’d go together some day when the film exhibits opened; she was really looking forward to that.

He had other plans too. Ned and him had pulled together their allowances to buy a Bandai 1/144 Millennium Falcon. They were supposed to pick it up from an e-Bay seller after the school trip.

But then...

That gigantic alien donut had to appear.

Not the detour he was expecting.

“Mr. Stark!” Peter stumbled towards Tony a few paces from him, wincing at the shooting pain in his right leg that made him cry out in agony. He’d gotten a little too cocky with Thanos. He paid for that when he stomped on his leg tossed him aside like a rag doll. He flung Iron Man across the landscape of the deserted planet afterwards, while he took on Dr Strange and the Guardians. Peter hoped they were giving that asshole a good fight.

Tony had landed in a heap of rubble. He got up to one knee, clutching his belly where a sword had gone through him. It’d been made out of his nano-tech suit, but then Thanos got the upper hand and drove it through him. Half his mask was smashed off, his lip bleeding.

Peter tripped and pushed himself on all fours to make it to Mr Stark, coughing out the red dust from the moon Thanos threw at them, tasting blood in his mouth.

“Mr. Stark!”

“Pete...” Tony managed to stand shakily, wincing as he fought past his wounds.

“Pete...you-you gotta go home, your leg, it’s not doing too hot. Come on.”

“Me? You got stabbed!”

Before he could protest further, Stark lurched forward and scooped him up. They flew over to the ship’s escape pod. He felt like a child being carried. In the distance Peter could make out Dr Strange having multiplied himself by the hundreds and was trying to tie Thanos down with bright, golden whips.

“I’m fine!” He shoved him off once they reached the pod and Tony settled him against it. He tried to stand, but the pain in his leg twisted like hot prongs, forcing him to lean on the pod’s exterior for support.

Tony ripped the rest of his broken mask off and gave him a no-nonsense look that struck right through Peter’s heart;

“Sure, and that constipated look you have on isn't because of a tibia fracture in your right leg." 

“I can’t leave you, we have to go back, we have to go back and stop him!” He peered at the escape pod, cold dread filling his veins, the sound of the battle not too far off. No, he couldn’t fight with a broken leg... but to be alone, hundreds of light years from Earth?

_I should’ve stayed on the damn school bus._

“You gotta go, kid!” Tony said through gritted teeth, and yanked Peter to face him, holding up his index finger at him. “This isn’t up for discussion! You leave. Now.” It was just like the times he told him off for trying to be like him, but this was so much more gut wrenching than that could ever be.

Stark leaned over and threw the ships hatch open where a single pilot seat was. He cocked his head at it. “Get in.”

“You won’t be able to get back to Earth if I take the pod!" He implored, trying to convince him to change his mind. “And I can’t pilot a space ship, I barely passed my driver’s test!”

“I knew this was a one way-ticket for me, kid, but you have a chance. FRIDAY will be there. Just hold on tight for the jump and close your eyes.” He stamped a star shaped device inside the ship’s controls to allow his AI to enter the ship’s hardware, the control panel lit up in blue lights with alien software. Peter didn't have a moment to really process it, _the gauntlet, the alien space ship he was on, his broken leg, leaving Tony, whatever the hell 'the jump' was. _

“I can't, what about you?"

“I won’t let you die out here!” He nearly raised his voice. That shut Peter up.

Suddenly, Tony's face softened, as he pleaded with him. “They need you, okay? They need you.”

_You’re wrong. They need you! I need you._ But he didn’t have it in him to argue with the look on Tony’s pale face. Peter swallowed the lump in his throat, feeling nauseous, and nodded sombrely. He eased his good leg into the pod.

He stopped himself, just one more time. With the odds stacked against them by the millions, none of them knew how this battle was going to end. Tears pricked his eyes. Peter couldn’t lose more people he cared about; it was too much, after his parents, after Ben...

“Tony—if you don’t come back...”

Stark grabbed his arm firmly, his mouth quivering as he tried, despite the pain, the fear, the fight, to give him a small, reassuring smile, that said it all;

“I’ll see you at home, Peter.”

He nodded, forcing himself to be brave. He fell into the seat that automatically strapped him in. The hatch closed, covered with dust, Tony was a blur behind the glass. With a rumble, the ship revved up, and started to ascend...

* * *

**New York**

“Laura.”

Her mum had been trying to lecture her for the past 10 minutes since they left the principal’s office. She turned up the volume of the music on her phone and leaned back in her seat, not about to entertain this argument even further.

“Laura! You—are you even_ listening_ to me?” She scolded, and yanked out the earphones.

"Hey!" 

"Don't be rude when I'm trying to talk to you!" 

She huffed in annoyance and rolled her eyes, _bullshit, same bullshit as always_. "You’re telling me the same stuff over and over again. I said all I had to say just now.”

Her mouth dropped open. “You can’t just slap people in the face! We need to talk about this.”

“She deserved it!” Laura retorted, crossing her arms over her chest. “You don’t understand what they did to her.”

It didn't matter what the fight had been about. Janet didn't ask for her to come to her defense. Laura was just, fucking done, with having to listen to the injustice go unreported, unnoticed by anyone. She always kept her head down, stayed invisible in these situations, because it ‘wasn’t her problem.’ _Yeah I know_, but sometimes...something’s bottle up for so long, exploding out of her when it got too much. Laura relished the look on Cassidy’s face after her hand left a red mark on her cheek.

“You’re a good kid, a smart kid,” said her mum, trying to make sense of it, she felt bad for her. “Why would you do this? You’ve never spoken to this girl in your entire life and now you’re picking fights on her behalf? What the hell are you thinking?”

“Somebody had to stand up to them,” she replied, sullenly.

“So it _had_ to be you?”

They stopped at a red light and she angled her head to her, the lines on her face, cross yet concerned. “You think that kind of violence makes you a good person? Makes you a hero? It doesn’t! It lands you in trouble!"

Laura threw her hands out; she wasn’t _trying_ to be anyone’s hero. “I'd rather they come for me than her. You don’t understand, you never do, none of you do—”

Hurt splashed across her mum’s face. “I’m trying Laura—”

Laura only noticed the huge black object diving for middle of the road milliseconds before it impacted. She yanked on her mother’s shirt collar down for cover.

It all happened too fast. The explosion rocked their minivan, sending it tipping over. Her entire body was thrashed, tossed to and fro, she lost all sense of direction.

She groaned when the movement came to a halt. Her eyes blinked open slowly. The world was on a tilt. She smelt smoke and engine fuel. Her head was spinning, weighing like lead, hot blood running down her cheek. She strapped in to the seat, lying in a bed of glass.

_“Laura...Laura...”_ she heard her name being called, louder and louder as she regained her bearings. She turned her head through the aching pain in her neck. Her mother clambered over the wreck of their car to help her.

She unbuckled her seatbelt and hoisted her through the broken front window. Staggering, Laura looked around to try to understand what happened. It was a warzone, people running in no particular direction, crying, yelling, and screaming. There were at least six other car crashes, into buildings, lampposts, into each other. There were ashes floating everywhere she looked, but she couldn’t see the source of the fire yet.

Right smack in the center of it was... a fighter jet plane. Or what looked like one. The aircraft cracked a crater into the concrete beneath it. It was black as ink, the hatch open, a red and midnight blue figure hung out of it, unmoving...possibly dead.

_Is that...is that Spider-Man?_

A hand gripped her shoulder, “come on sweetie, we need to leave, something’s wrong.” Laura turned to her mother hovering over her, nose bleeding, forehead covered in sweat. She was the only thing that made sense right now.

Then, before Laura could even begin to understand what was about to happen, her mother’s hand started to disintegrate to ashes, and then...all of her.

* * *

**New York**  
** 10 months later**

_ **Missing: Anna Lieberman** _  
_ ** Missing: Miguel Garcia** _  
_ ** Have you seen him? Aboud Al Jamal** _

_ **MISSING** _  
_ ** MISSING** _  
_ ** MISSING** _  
_ ** MISSING** _

The park bulletin was a collage of despair and mourning. The oldest ones were faded and peeling after months exposed to the elements. Laura watched it from the ground, beneath the shade of tree in the sweltering New York summer as a couple added their MISSING poster to the bulletin. Their poster was layered on top of hundreds and hundreds of others. It seemed a little too late to hope for their kid to show up now. 

She heard collective whistling and cheers somewhere off in the distance. Some kids in the skate park were waving at Spiderman swinging past over the rooftops, typical sight in this part of town. He’d made it, somehow, after that alien space ship crash; at least the city had him.

She returned her attention to the couple, the wife holding back tears as the husband wrapped his arm around to console her. 

What happened to their daughter had happened to billions of other people.

_The rest of us? We were left behind. ‘Spared,’ some would say._

The day everyone disappeared started off like any normal school day. She slugged through, aced all her tests, kept her head down, ate lunch beneath the bleachers. Normal school day, save for the fight she got into because she just couldn't keep her nose out of it. She wondered, even now if she had been a nicer person to her mum, gave a bully the benefit of the doubt, the circumstances of the Blip would be different. But God chose differently for everyone. She would have to learn to live with that regret. 

When she woke up again she was in the hospital. The place was a warzone. She watched the chaos unfold on the TV above her, in a ward they were packed like sardines with extra beds to accommodate the influx of patients. New Yorker’s rushed in and out searching for loved ones that may have wound up there. Being in the hospital was the preferred option, since the other one was...to turn into dust.

The city was placed on lock-down, and world governments were in shambles. The economy crashed, the Vice president was now the president, their army slashed in half, hospital staff across all 52 states spread too thin to deal with aftermath. 

Many people in her ward were terrified it was going to happen again. Others wished for it, so that they wouldn’t be so painfully alone.

The Avengers made a statement not 24 hours later to explain that wasn’t the case. It was one shot, and half of the world’s population vanished.

Laura was bombarded with the news day in day out in that hospital. It was never-ending pain, everywhere she looked. Her bed had been next to a mother who's new born vanished in her arms while she breast fed her. Her wailing kept her up every night. Soon enough, Laura cried too, alone, openly, in that crowded hospital room, wishing they could give her a miracle drug, something to let her dream and wake up, and this would be over and her mum would be there next to her. But it was always the same nightmare when she opened her eyes.

They called it the Blip.

Which made it sound less horrifying than it actually was.

For her, after the hospital was the Youth Center for displaced teens, as arranged by Child Protection Services. Or what was left of that government body in those dire times.

It didn’t make sense to a lot of people for a while; because people didn’t die like that, turning to ashes, floating off into the air. The Avengers said the aliens from the Battle of New York had returned and this apocalyptic event was the consequence of them losing that battle. They neither confirmed nor denied that it had occurred in Wakanda.

Tony Stark was notably missing from the press conference, but he’d been low-key for a while since he got married.

The religious preached that this was the Rapture. Conspiracy theorists suggested the Blipped were in an alternate dimension, waiting for a portal to open bring them back to Earth, alive and well.

The simplest answer was: they were dead and never coming back.

The why and how didn’t matter to Laura. If the Avengers couldn’t stop it—the Earth’s mightiest heroes— nothing she said, or did, or felt was going to change the reality of it either.

Her foster mum texted for her to come home before dinner was ready. Laura got up and looked at the newest Missing poster. _Madeline Montega. _She was pretty, with tan skin and bright green eyes. They used a Yearbook photo. _Wonder how long it'll be before this poster wears down too. _She wiped the dirt off her shorts and began her walk home. At the subway stairs she saw Rudy, the grey Scottish terrier that belonged to Walsh, who used to run a hotdog stand there.

The hotdog stand and Walsh were long gone, but not Rudy. He waited there everyday for his master. The dog whined at her as she bent down to pet him. She reminded herself to bring him a treat next time.

She strolled beneath a billboard that lit up with a bright ad, dripping in color, scenes changing rapidly like a drug trip._ You would think people wouldn’t give a shit about the latest flavor of diet cherry Coke, but the Blip couldn’t kill capitalism unfortunately._

Laura tore her gaze from it, the lights flaring, leaving streaks in her vision, wishing her eyesight were the way it used to be.

Besides losing her mother and moving in with a total stranger, that was another thing that changed in her life after the Blip. Her body had changed, but not in the way she expected for a teenager her age.

At the beginning of summer this year, just after her 16th birthday she had a fever that burned through her immune system over a weekend. The doctors said she had a blood infection but they were pressed to localize the focus of it. Her temperature was edging 42 degrees Celsius, heart rate low, and she had way to many red blood cells.

She knew it couldn’t be normal for a fever. She heard their whispers to the nurses as they took their samples, started the IV lines for fluids, the calls to specialists across the country for a fourth opinion that came up nil.

Basically; her body wasn’t dying like it should’ve.

Laura didn’t believe the assurances of the doctors telling her they would figure this out. She’d always had mistrust for them since she was a kid. She saw their concerned expressions, that something about this infection wasn’t believably_...human._

Then Sunday morning, when she woke up— she ripped through her blankets with 12-inch claws jutting out from the 1st and 4th knuckle of both her hands.

To this day, she still couldn’t believe that_, this_ was happening to her.

She thought she was deep in a fever dream. She lifted her hands as the metal coating them glinted in the sunlight. Thin, razor sharp. That’s when she noticed the fever had disappeared, her flu-ey symptoms that made her feel like actual death, were gone.

Her body had never felt better, but the price she paid for that was to become a nightmare.

She was a freak, _an Edward scissor hands-looking freak._ She could push them back in, it was painless, thank the Lord, but sometimes they retracted themselves like they had a mind of their own. She reasoned that to the enhancement her senses experienced too, as though were ready for her when she was in danger, and she never _was._

Lights became too bright, like someone had turned the saturation and brightness to the max. If someone shoved past her in the subway, it rocketed through her like an earthquake. As for her sense of smell...if only she could get away with wearing a mask 24/7 whenever she stepped outside. People could smell _awful._

She should tell someone. Anyone. But she couldn’t.

Maybe this was what the Hulk felt like when he turned big and green. She felt like an outcast even though she didn’t look like one._ I guess that’s an upside._

Her powers, her claws, were a nuisance. They fascinated her; their mechanics, the substance that coated them, what in her blood and bones had caused them to form.

But, none of that mattered in the long run.

Because they could also do harm, real harm.

Blocking out the uneasy thoughts, she stopped by Delmar’s bodega. She made a beeline for the cereal section, but couldn’t find what she was looking for. At the counter she stamped on the bell. Mr. Delmar was dusting a picture of his cat, Murph. Another victim of the Blip. He placed it somewhere high where everyone could remember him fondly. She missed the cat too despite being allergic.

“Still no Cinnamon toast crunch?” 

“Stock comes in Sunday kid,” said Mr Delmar behind the cashier. "It takes longer to get things these days." She’d heard he lost his parents, a sister and a nephew, but what happened never slowed down his friendly attitude and work ethic.

“The coffee then.”

Her usual order was black, two sugars and no cream. He handed her the hot paper cup as she took out her wallet from her backpack. “Say hi to the sergeant for me, there’s a couple of gangbangers at night roaming around, it should be something she looks into. Be careful at night.”

“Sure thing.”

“Kids your age have all the energy in the world, why all the coffee?”

She shrugged. The coffee was never for her anyway.

She knew she’d pass Mrs. Langley on the way home, an elderly homeless woman who always circled the same two blocks. Mrs Langley had been homeless for as long as Laura could remember. Something had happened to her family that wasn’t caused by Blip. Laura didn’t know what was sadder; to have no home and family because they’d disappeared or because they didn’t love you anymore. It was probably all the same to Mrs. Langley.

She jogged over to give her the coffee. “Oh thank you Laura, God bless you,” she said, with a wide smile that couldn’t conceal the sadness in her watery grey eyes.

Laura hadn’t noticed it before her abilities had settled in, but she did now. She never asked her about it. Everyone in the entire city had a lot to be sad about these days.

“No worries. See you later, Mrs. Langley.”

Music blasting at full volume, bobbing her head to a new track, Laura crossed the road. She lifted her phone to change the song. She turned her head to the right, and her heart stopped short, the headlights of a car milliseconds from ramming into her—

And then, a red and blue blur crashed into her chest. Up into the air she went, the ground getting father away from her. The scream came a few seconds late, as the air swooshed past her ears. She vaguely registered an arm around her waist.

She opened her eyes slowly as her feet touched solid ground. She stumbled against a wall, breathing in hard, forcing images of the crash after the Blip out of her mind. Laura looked up;

Her savior—was Spiderman himself.

“Are you alright, m’am?” He lifted her by the shoulders to stand straight and then reached for her face to adjusted her glasses that were askew. He sounded so...young.

Laura was speechless, star struck. “Spiderman...” she patted her shirt down. “M-my phone…” she mumbled dumbly. He spun around to see if it’d fallen on the pavement, his back turned to her.

Like the sound of a chef's knife being sharpened, one claw on her stubborn right knuckle shot out._ Shit. Why now? Why now?_

“Oh I see it!” Spiderman spotted it in the middle of the road. He looked left and right and then jogged over to get it for her.

Laura turned to the brick wall and frantically tried to shove the claw back into her hand, it dug into the brick as she pushed on it. “Come on you stubborn hunk of metal,” she hissed under her breath.

“Here you go! Sorry I think the head phones are ruined, um and your phone screen.”

Laura spun back to him, hiding the claw behind her. “Oh...oh no,” she was more than little sad at the crushed state of her headphones. They were a gift from Riley. How was she going to explain this to her?

As he handed it back to her, the white eyes pieces on his mask narrowed at her phone screen.

“Dudeeee, I love this song!” He exclaimed.

“Oh. Um, thanks,” Laura face went as red as his suit.

“Look both ways when you crossed the street next time, m’am,” he remarked cheerfully and backed away. “Enjoy your evening!” He shot his web at a subway that was passing in the overhead bridge, and lifted him twenty feet into the air. “And I oop—“

She never caught the tail end of his sentence. She watched him soar towards the adjacent building and then disappear into the golden sunset.

_Whoa. Just. Whoa._

She glanced down at her phone and smiled. _Kids by MGMT. Good taste._

Even with that brief encounter, she admired him even more. Spiderman would be considered a freak too, _I mean why wouldn’t he? Webs? Spider-suit?_

Except everyone, _everyone_ loved him. It was the hottest topic in the school newsletter every week. Even Laura looked forward to reading about Spider-man’s latest shenanigans and what everyone else thought about it.

Her smiled fell as she stared at her claw. She sighed miserably, and took out the wrist brace, her favorite accessory these days, and placed it over to hide it.

* * *

**Peter**

Peter bent over the edge of the roof to make sure the old ginger cat in upstairs apartment wasn’t lounging on the balcony. The last time Peter swooped down the cat got spooked and nearly fell fifteen stories to it’s death. With the coast clear, he swung down straight into his bedroom, sticking the landing. Any of the aches and pains of the city in his muscles eased away now that he was home. 

“Hey Karen, give me run down of the patrol today,” he said as he shut his window. He took his mask off, pushing back the sweaty hair on his head. Karen was programmed onto a virtual assistant pod on his desk so he didn't need to wear his mask to communicate with her. 

_“Welcome home, Peter. Average time between two destinations is: 8 minutes 34 seconds. Much better than yesterday,” _the robotic voice said encouragingly._ “Crime rate in your usual patrol radius is down 5%.”_

“That’s great.” He fell into his seat, looking at a picture of him and Ned at last year’s science fair on his desk. It hadn't been there this morning, May must have framed it for him. He’d had that in his drawer for months, always intending to frame it, and then...

Peter rubbed at his eyes, sniffing_, come on, Peter, don’t, it’s enough, it’s enough._

The three months after what happened on Titan had been the worst months of his life. Still, almost a year later, he couldn’t shake the sadness whenever it hit like a wave, the weight of his failure collapsing into his chest, sometimes so hard it could crush his ribs. 

_“How’s the leg, Peter?”_ Karen asked, pulling him out of it for a moment. He sat up straighter in his chair; undoing the knee brace they gave him to help with mobility, it had worked wonders.

“Feel’s as good as new.”

“Peter! You home?” Aunt May called from the living room, “dinner’s ready.”

He got up fast and stepped on a stray piece of the Bandai Falcon on his carpet. He picked it up, swallowing the lump in his throat. He set it down next to the model Star Wars plane, knowing that if Ned were here he would tell him he should know better than to use cheap craft glue for a collectors item. He took a deep breath and grabbed some fresh clothes to change into. 

“Coming!”

* * *

**Laura**

She was almost home. As she got to the stoop, Riley was coming out of the entrance doors to the apartment block.

“I thought we were doing dinner?” She quickly pulled down her hoodie sleeve to hide the wrist brace. The claw hadn’t gone in yet fully, she’d give it a few more hours before taking it off.

“Yup, but I burnt the food we were supposed to eat, so we’re going to Boojum’s, instead.” The Mexican place was just around the block so they walked together, chatting.

“How was your walk?”

“Boring,” she said. “I stopped by Delmar’s and saw Rudy and Mrs. Langley too.”

“How are they?”

“Same old, same old.”

At the restaurant she stuffed her backpack beneath the table, trying not to feel too guilty about the broken headphones.

Laura thought about bringing up the Spider-Man incident, but then she didn’t want to sound irresponsible. She appreciated the trust and independence Riley gave her in months they’d gotten to know each other.

“I think we should go for bubble tea for desert.”

Her brows went up. “Really? You hate bubble tea, you nearly choked on a pearl before, and said ‘this will not be how I die.’”

“I’ve had a good week, and I know you like it, so why not? Maybe I won’t choke to death this time.”

Whenever she said anything teasing yet affectionate, Laura didn’t know how to respond that wasn’t an awkward smile. She couldn’t help but think about her mother in those times, and how different the two women were. Despite being a pit of anger and grief at the beginning, Riley wanted to take her in. She couldn’t understand why God gave her such good fortune in her lowest points, but she wasn’t going to complain about it.

“So... have you checked your social media recently?” Riley began as their food arrived.

She could see the serious shift in her demeanor whenever they were seconds from discussing anything to do with Child Protection Services. _Explains the bubble tea._

“Nope,” she dug into her tostadas. “I’m trying to live in the moment, disconnect from the rest of the world. Social media has really narrowed my emotional capacity to connect with people.”

Riley smirked and rolled her eyes. “Alright smartass.”

She chuckled quietly. “I haven’t opened up the apps in a few hours, what happened?”

“Tony Stark came back.”

She stopped eating. _No one comes back._

“I...didn’t realize he was gone,” she swallowed the food in her mouth, it had lost it’s taste. “He was married a few months-a few months before...”

“No one knew where he was. Well, no one who didn’t need to know, which was the rest of the _planet._ Doesn’t seem like something the Avengers or Stark industries should have kept quiet about, but it’s none of our business, of course,” Riley shrugged, passive aggressively. 

Being a cop who had to deal with the fallout of these events, she had a grudge against most super-powered individuals, and aliens, and AI’s._ I mean who could blame her? Where are the normal street thugs to deal with?_ Laura swallowed, she could feel her claw straining to be free against the wrist brace. _I should tell her. I have to tell her. _

“Anyway, Stark was stuck in space for around a month post-Blip," said Riley. "It was on Instagram just now or the other one—Twitter? Beats me.”

Laura leaned back in her seat, her appetite having completely left her, her heart beating faster. “Does that mean everyone else is in space too?”

Riley’s shoulder’s fell, she’d been hoping the same for both of them. “No. That’s what people thought too, but he debunked that. He’s been back a while and I guess he wanted some time to himself before appearing in the spotlight. He’s got a kid now.”

Good for him. Laura knew what Riley was trying to say beneath repeating the headlines. “So she’s really gone, isn’t she?”

Riley gave a pained expression and reached over the table for her. “I’m sorry, Laura.”

“Me too,” she looked up at her; they’d both lost loved ones. Laura; her mother as for Riley— more people than she could count on both hands.

“So... what happens now? To me?”

Riley was fostering her for the time being, it had started off unofficial at first, given the disaster Child Services had been. Laura never assumed that it would be permanent.

“You stay with me, of course,” she stated firmly, and laid her hand overs hers. “You have nothing to worry about, Laura. We’re family.”

Her heart felt warm and gooey inside to hear that. This whole foster-parenting thing was new to Riley too. 

Afterwards they walked back home. “Hey, you’re starting at MidTown Tech soon,” Riley said lightly to alleviate the depressing mood after Stark news. “Are you excited?”

“I am, but I’m nervous too; new school, it’s always really daunting. I feel like everyone is looking at me, even though they’re probably not.” She passed the competitive entrance exam in the spring. Laura hadn’t lived with Riley for even a year then, yet she helped pay for tuition classes for it. She thought of her as a guardian angel after that, not every displaced teen had been so lucky after their families blipped. 

Starting at MidTown was the one thing she was looking forward to all year...and then her powers came. How was she supposed to survive the new school year if all she wanted to do was lock herself in her room? _Freak. Edward scissor hands freak._

“Oh I know what you mean, when I was younger I moved schools a lot too, when I-"

“Sergeant Knight.”

A strained voice came from behind them and they turned. A Latina lady in her forties with red-rimmed green eyes stood a few feet from them. Laura frowned at her perplexed. There was clearly something amiss as Riley’s whole persona changed to police sergeant;

“Mrs. Montega,” she started off stiff but politely, “how are you—”

“It has been 11 months,” Montega took a step to them. She seemed familiar. “You’ve forgotten,” she said, her words laced with growing anger.

Riley looked almost hurt by the accusation. “No, I haven’t,” she said, keeping her tone levelled. “Mrs. Montega, I assure you we are—”

“You have given up!” She shouted at them, startling Laura. “You gave up on my daughter.”

“M’am, please,” Riley held her hand out as if to offer it to her, “if you want to voice your concerns, you can go to the precinct, speak to my captain, I can bring you there my—”

“I came to _you,”_ She hissed, her face reddening. “I asked for your help to find my Madeline! And you promised—”

Riley swallowed, defeated. “M’am, 10 out of 10 times your daughter is missing for the same reason as everyone else’s loved ones are missing.” She looked at a loss of what else to do or say, “I’m sorry, I'm so-”

“This is different, I told you; this is different!” Mrs. Montega said vehemently, her hand balling into a fist. “The Blip did not take her!” She shoved into Riley as she charged past and glared daggers at her. “You’re incapable of doing your job to protect us, I want my case reassigned.”

“M’am—if you—if that's-” Riley stopped and started, but by then Montega had crossed the street in a determined march, leaving them in her wake. She breathed out roughly, looking deeply troubled by it, but quickly covered it up.

“I’m sorry you had to see that, Laura." 

She remembered where she recognized Mrs Montega. “I saw her at the park with her husband. I found it weird they were putting a missing poster on top of the others, after all this time.”

“They’re grieving, I understand,” Riley sighed tiredly, her eyes drifting elsewhere, “but I can’t help her.”

“Does this happen a lot?”

“Not anymore,” she replied. “We’re up to our necks with unsolved missing persons’ reports. We have to rule out everyone possibility for procedure’s sake,” she told her. “But sometimes it’s the simplest explanation, and not everyone can accept that.”

Riley’s phone started to ring. She checked the caller ID, and sighed in exasperation, the day was just getting longer.

“I got to take this,” she answered the phone; “Sergeant Knight. Yeah Leo? They saw what? What kind of masks? Shit. Um…” she lowered her voice a bit; “look, I’m hanging with Laur—” Riley scoffed, “okay...okay...notify the 18th and 20th, and the gang unit. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

As soon as Riley hung up she said; “no bubble tea then?”

“I’m afraid not, sorry kiddo.”

Laura didn’t mind much that Riley had to get called away at odd hours; the city needed her. “Don’t act, you asked Leo to call right on time, to save you from the horror.”

She laughed, they needed some lightheartedness after getting yelled at. They were less than a block from home so Riley escorted her back. “No plans tonight? It’s Friday.”

Riley had always been concerned that Laura’s circle of friends was virtually non-existent. Moving schools in the past didn’t help. “I’m going to finish binge watching the Last Airbender,” she announced happily, and perfectly content with not having any Friday-night plans. 

“Re-watching you mean,” she smiled. “Don’t you miss the classes at the dojo, instead of watching them fight like that in a cartoon?”

“You mean masterpiece,” she had to correct her, “and nah. I don’t miss it, I was never good at it anyway,” she said, her body feeling unsettled and cold recalling what happened the last time she was there. _You didn't mean for that to happen, Laura. It's okay. _

“Alright then, see you later," she said, clipping her police badge onto her jeans. 

“Stay safe out there.”

“I will."

Riley squeezed her shoulder goodbye. Even though they weren’t very affectionate with each other, she knew the little gestures meant that she cared about her, just as much as Laura cared about her too.

In good faith, she hoped Riley would come home later than usual tonight.

It’d give Laura the time to practice.

* * *

**A/N: Does anyone want another chapter? What do you think? Sorry if there are any grammatical errors, I edit this by myself.**

** Thanks for stopping by!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Peter **

He walked up to the park bench in front of the playground and sat down. Two kids playing tag shot past him. He thought he was late but the seller for the Star Wars collector’s piece wasn’t there yet. Peter yawned and leaned back in his seat, and then winced when he forgot the tender bruise he had along his abdomen from last night. He had fought a Triad drug ring, and they definitely played rougher than other’s mafia’s he’d dealt with.

The Triad was capitalizing on the increased prescription drug prices now that the market demand had drastically reduced. They sold cheap fakes dusted with fentanyl. A lucrative business. Buyers wallet’s wouldn’t burst from buying their meds, their pain would vanish; and a euphoric high would come later. In the long run—addiction. The drug was only supposed to be used for late stage cancer patients, but nowadays people take just about anything to ease their suffering, even if it could kill them.

“Peter.”

He opened his eyes to the familiar voice, and saw Tony Stark standing above him, dressed in a graphic t-shirt, blazer, and pale blue glasses. A classic Tony look. Pleasantly surprised, but confused, he sat up;

“Mr. Stark, hey, I—what are you doing here, all the way in Queens?”

Tony pulled along a stroller with his other hand. “Taking the little menace out for some air.” Tony’s kid was almost a year old, she had huge brown eyes, a tuft of brown hair mussed on her head like her father and chubby fingers, she was dressed up in a fuzzy pink onesie.

“She gets excited around dogs, I think cuz they’re the same size her,” said Tony. “I’m also here to give you this.”

Mr. Stark handed him a parcel and Peter realized he was the seller he’d been waiting on. “You’re playboiphilantrophist84?” He snorted and shook his head at Tony’s antics. “You could just call me, you know, if you wanted to say hi.”

He shrugged a shoulder, “yeah, but this is more fun.” He sat down next to him, pulling the stroller closer. The baby babbled at them sucking on her own fingers; “Morgan sweetheart, this is Peter, he’s Spider-Man,” Tony whispered in baby-talk voice, making a show of ensuring no one else could hear him. "She can keep a secret don’t worry.”

Peter smirked, for a moment he could forget about the hellhole he lived in now. “She’s cute,” he smiled and leaned over to put his index in her tiny palm and she grasped it immediately. “She’s lucky you came back.”

“How are you, Pete? You’ve been busy,” Mr. Stark remarked, _so much for thinking this was a casual catch-up._ “A little rough on the criminals these days, huh?”

Trying not to be too agitated, he looked at him blank-faced. “Maybe I’m just getting more efficient at being the friendly-neighbourhood Spider-Man.” He didn’t think it was possible, but he was getting tired of that moniker.

“How are you holding up?”

Peter sighed and leaned back in the bench, crossing his arms over his chest;

“Gosh, you sound like Aunt May.”

“Yeah, maybe because we’re both adults trying to look out for you,” said Tony, matter-of-factedly. And that was true, he gave him the knee brace to help with the stiffness in the leg he broke, but that was four months ago. There was the occasional call, but never a face-to-face meet up like this, Peter suspected he must've done _something _wrong to set off Tony's red alert to make this elaborate meet-up.

“How’s summer school?” Tony asked. 

Peter whipped his head around to him. “You-you know about that?”

Tony shrugged nonchalantly, and gave him a ‘duh’ look; there wasn’t much he could hide from Mr. Stark anyway.

“Listen, I’m going to get the extra-credit okay, I have it figured out,” said Peter, exasperated by everyone’s concern he was going to get expelled from high school or held back a year. He knew what he was doing, he didn’t get why Tony was here making a big deal out of it. Yes, he might have missed a few assignments in Organic Chemistry and Robotics; but he was busting his ass to finish them now.

Tony sighed tiredly, and took his glasses off; Peter could see the crow’s feet on the corners of his eyes. “I don’t throw this around easily, Pete; you’re smart,” he stated. “But I understand the year has been tough; ditching classes, skipping out on detention. Perhaps it’s a rebellious teenage phase, and I support that kind of growth, but you have to watch out, or you'll cross a line,” he pointed the glasses at him.

Peter's mouth dropped open as something triggered inside of him; “Are you kidding me? I can’t believe it. You’re keeping tabs on my _school_ records now? That is so unfair. I don't check in on you and what you do at work, do I?" He felt the anger and grief rising inside of him; “yeah, it’s been shit, of course it’s been shit, why the heck wouldn’t it be?!” He raised his voice, startling even Tony.

“Hey kid, come—”

“Ned, was my _best friend_, my best friend, and he died,” Peter lashed out at him. “And I’m, I’m still waiting on the 1 in 42 _millionth_ chance for this to be fixed, Mr. Stark, as depressing as that sounds, I still am!”

Tony’s face changed, it pitied him. “Peter, you know it’s not coming—”

He caged his fingers over his head and threw them out. “_I know! _God—I know!” He got to his feet in a huff. “Yeah, maybe I failed a few classes, but I’m helping people who’ve lost so much more, and I owe it to them, because I failed them the first time, all of them. I have to look at the faces of my teachers, my classmates, their parents, _everyone _and live with that! Being him,” he lowered his voice, “is the _only_ thing that’s helping me right now, so I’m sorry if I’m not living up to everyone else’s expectations.”

When he was done, finally done, his chest was heaving up and down and his throat felt raw. Tony stared up at him in silent unreadable judgment.

“You’re angry,” he said, after a long moment.

He frowned at him, perplexed, it was always some twist and turn with him. “Of course I am. Aren’t you-? Why aren’t you angry Mr. Stark? Why—” suddenly Tony got to his feet and opened his arms wider, he thought he was going to tackle him to the ground and then he realized it was a hug.

Peter took a second to return it, this was not how he expected this conversation to go; “Wow, okay, I thought we didn’t hug.”

“I think we’ve reach that point by now,” said Mr. Stark. “Although don’t expect this to happen every time you yell at me.”

In that hug he tried to believe that everything would work out, that eventually all would be well. Tony was living a good life, a peaceful life. Peter wanted that for himself too. He sighed deeply to calm himself and hung his head as Tony let go.

"I’m sorry, I miss him. I didn’t mean to get so riled up.”

“I know,” Stark rested his hand on his shoulder with a firm grip, and he remembered their last moments on Titan before Peter shot off into space, felt his organs being yanked out of him during the hyper-jump and then crash landing in New York somehow in one piece. By then, Thanos had already won. 

“I’m not here to tell you’re doing anything wrong,” said Tony. “I wanted to tell you that I’m proud of you. And you haven’t failed anyone, certainly not me.”

* * *

**Laura**

That night, she arrived at the cast iron fencing on the perimeter of the park in a non-descript area that would usually be filled with junkies and potheads. There weren’t many of those lingering here these days. She hoisted herself up and over the fence. She’d gotten better at not falling onto her face on the other side. Technically this was trespassing but there was nowhere else for her to go where she wouldn't be seen.

Victorian style lamps lit the walkway every ten feet, casting long shadows of the oak trees on either side. _If Riley knew I was out here this late she’d be so pissed._

A teenage girl roaming in an empty park this late, she should be pissing her pant terrified, but she knew her hypersenses would tell her when danger was coming, and right now, there was none. She was alone, and honestly, Laura preferred that. No bodies pressing against her in the subway, no bike messengers to dodge on the pavement, no bright lights that forced her to wear her glasses, no pungent smells of alleyway trash. Here, her body could handle it. Her muscles relaxed and her breathing was slower as she inhaled the scent of the fresh green leaves of summer. All she heard was the flap of the bird wings in the nest high above and a raccoon diving into the bushes to hide.

There was a huge row of abandoned bikes that were yet to be moved by the park committee. Laura took a running start and did a handspring, tumbling mid air to soar over them, she landed a little clumsily, having to balance herself with her palms on the ground.

At the monkey bars she jumped up easily, swinging from one end to the next. After the powers came, she was crazy strong and agile, but she needed practice to refine her skills. 

Laura didn’t have any plans for the powers she had now. The first week she got them she’d locked herself in her room for most of the day, considering crazy options to figure out what was happening to her. One of which was to report to the Avengers Tower, but it seemed they had a lot on their plate for obvious reasons, and there were rumors on the internet they weren't even based in New York City anymore.

Truth be told, some days she wondered if her powers had been given to the wrong person;

It was at Chikara dojo around two weeks into the powers settling in. After a lot of trial and error she thought she had things under control. Laura decided she needed to tell the Sensei Colleen she wanted to take a break from the martial arts classes; coming up with a random, yet plausible excuse why she had to leave it behind. In truth, Laura felt like she was too strong to be there, and she didn't want to accidentally break any arms without understanding her own strength first. One of the few friends she had; Kimiko was there after hours cleaning up. Colleen wasn’t around. She asked to spar with her. It was normal, fun; they’d done it a hundred times before.

Laura obliged her, thoughtlessly, carelessly. She learnt her lesson that day.

A few strikes later and Laura had sliced Kimiko’s right hand to the bone with her claws. It was worst because Kim was right handed. When she closes her eyes now she can still see the horror on Kimiko’s small face and the spray of blood across the blue mats. A trip to the ER, and a massive lie later (Laura told them she had accidentally picked up a sharpened pike which she didn’t realize wasn’t a practice one) and she left that dojo forever.

She never saw Kimiko after that, and they never spoke again. Laura didn’t blame her. Colleen had tried to reach out to understand what happened but she dodged all the calls until she eventually gave up.

As much as she missed those classes. It was better this way.

Now the claws popped out, this time because when she wanted them to, when no one else was around. She could come at night and practice and understand her abilities, noting down any new findings she had like this was one long never-ending science project, she had no other clue what she was meant to do otherwise. 

She punched them into the wall beside the skate rink, the next hand a little higher, and then one after the other; she was scaling up the wall. Once she was twenty feet on the ground. She looked down to where she’d started.

_Okay, now how do I get back down?_

She sheathed one hand first, and swung off to one side with a jolt. She swallowed her fear and shoved them back into the wall again. She revved herself up and at the count of three shoved off into a back flip.

She didn’t exactly stick the landing, one foot made it but the other missed the picnic table. She lurched backwards with a hard thud into the concrete, knocking the wind out of her. It sucked to fall down, _but hey, I just back flipped off a wall at twenty feet and didn’t break any bones. _

That was an achievement.

It was Sunday night and two hours passed by quickly. Riley was working late again but she would be home before 1 am. Laura called it quits then and decided to head back.

She popped into Delmar’s on the way, to finally pick up the Cinnamon Toast Crunch she’d been waiting on. Laura started at MidTown tech tomorrow and wanted to eat her favorite breakfast as per tradition in the morning.

“You’re out pretty late, kid.” Delmar said to her, surprised, when she got to the register. “What did I tell you about being here these parts late at night?”

She smirked. “Don’t tell the sergeant, will ya?”

He tisked but rang her up anyway. “Get home safe, kid.”

“Will do, night Mr. Delmar!”

She hopped out of the bodega excited to sneak in a midnight cereal snack. She was crossing the street and about to stuff her hand into the box when she heard;

“_Don’t make any noise, open the register quietly or I’ll blow your face off!” _

The hairs on her neck pricked, she spun on her heel, staying low, the shelves from inside the store covering her as she circled back to the entrance. She tucked her long-awaited cereal into her backpack. Laura's nose caught hints of the gunpower in their handgun and how one assailant was sweatier than the other, the nerves of the armed robbery getting to him.

_“Everything in the bag, hurry up!” _

Her mind raced with what to do next, glued to the wall, heartbeat thunderous in her ears. Laura got out her phone, the screen still cracked, but her thumbs were sweaty and shaky as she dialled 911.

_What was I thinking? _She couldn’t stop them; she hadn’t fought anyone before in a real fight. Suddenly they burst out of the store, but not fast enough to out run her. The operator was on the other line at that moment. Laura watched as they sprinted further and further, and in a spilt second decision she decided to go after them;

Laura bounded after, her claws unsheathing, gaining speed and pounced onto them aiming for their legs. “Stop!”

“Holy shit!” He cried. She flipped the nervous one carrying the money over with her claws.

“That doesn’t belong to you!” She yelled down at him.

“Hey little girl!” The other one called from behind her. He aimed a venomous glare at her and the barrel of his gun.

She heard the gunshot first.

It felt like she had been whacked in the stomach with a hammer. Laura cried out, the feeling of a hot poker in her belly. She stood still in pain and shock, bending over clutching herself.

The nervous one she tackled scurried to his feet and gripped onto his partner, panicking. “What the fuck? Dude, what the fuck! We weren’t supposed to hurt anyone!”

“Shut up!” He snarled at him. “Let’s go! Let’s go before the cops come.” The one who shot her shoved at his partner and they snatched up the bag of money and ran.

Time slowed down as flashes of her life came to her mind. Her mother’s face, Riley face. Everything she was going to lose, everything she had already lost. A dark black stain was blooming on her sweater. _This is what happens to heroes, Laura. They die. _

Wincing, she fell down to one knee. Tears welled up in her eyes.

Then, there was a pinching sensation over where the bullet had entered, followed by the soft sound of a coin falling onto the road. She peered down;

It was the bullet.

The tears froze on her cheeks. She stared at it for a long moment, it was dark there, and this could be a trick of the light. But it couldn’t be, she could see _everything _so clearly now and she knew what it was. Laura straightened to stand, and lifted her sweater up. Right before her eyes, the circular, bullet wound that formed a small crater above her belly button...sealed up.

Her hand quivered as her fingers brushed over the fresh, unscathed skin and flesh.

The wound was gone, the pain was gone.

“I’m okay...I’m okay.” She swallowed, still dazed with blood loss (or lack thereof), shock, amazement, a mixture of all of that. Laura lifted her head; the pair of robbers weren’t that far off.

_I’m fucking invincible. _

They didn’t make it ten steps when Laura was on them again, springing after them as fast as a wild cat.

“What the hell?!”

Learning from her mistake, she went high now, leaping onto the one with the gun and they crashed onto the pavement. He turned over, trying to get up and she kicked him squarely in the chest, sending him flying six feet from her. She dodged a punch from his partner and struck him with an uppercut in the jaw.

The gunman stood up unsteadily with his gun aimed for her, “I—I shot you...” he was trying to be menacing, but he’d lost all his resolve. 

She locked eyes with him and her claws unsheathed. His eyes widened to the size of pennies. She struck down on the gun and swiped his legs from under him. He landed with a grunt and a thud. She pounded the claws into the concrete beside his head, making him shriek, and pulled his mask off, it was some hollow-faced guy in his late 20s.

“W-what the hell are you?” He whimpered, and covered his head with his arms.

“Don’t you _ever_ think about stealing again, got it?” A growl ripped from her throat as she said it. 

He nodded, trembling all over. For some reason, it was incredibly satisfying to see a guy who’d tried to _kill_ her shaking like a leaf at her feet. This was new. She wasn’t sure if feeling like this was a good thing or a bad thing yet. 

Laura snatched up the bag of money and flipped her hood on to hide the upper part of her face. She heard the fearful breaths of a couple nearby as she stalked to them; the boyfriend shielded his girlfriend from her. It cut into her a little that they were afraid of her of all people, but if a hooded figure came up to her at midnight on a dark street, she'd be pissing her pants scared too.

Laura dumped the bag of money at their feet. “That belongs to Delmar’s bodega. Make sure he gets it.”

The police sirens were approaching three blocks down. “The cops are almost there," she told them. 

The Cinnamon Toast Crunch had fallen out of her backpack; she stuffed it back in and fled the scene wondering who the hell she had just become.

* * *

**Peter**

As Spider-Man, Peter clung to the façade of the building piecing together what was going on. He watched, as a girl-he was certain it was one-made short work of two robbers that hit Delmar’s and then used what appeared like long knives to threaten the robber that tried to shoot her. It was over quite fast as she went to a couple with the bag of money and then ran from the scene with her backpack in tow. Peter could have intervened but she had it handled. He followed her via the buildings, swinging quietly, and made it only as far until the subway stairs where she disappeared underground. He decided to leave her, and check in on Mr. Delmar as his last stop of the night.

Thankfully, the cops were at Delmar’s, he got his money back, and the cops apprehended the robbers. Feeling tired from the long day, and knowing he needed the sleep for school tomorrow, Peter headed home.

He forgot to check this time if the cat; Marbles was on the balcony. As he swooped down the cat meowed loudly at him, and then it toppled over and started to fall, clawing at the edges for dear life. Peter shot out a web at it, and propelled it to him. It was a mistake, as the cat was going fucking crazy, clawing at his face; “whoa, whoa, whoa! I’m trying to help you!”

Peter dived into his bedroom and set the cat down onto his carpet where it leapt out of his arms and then hissed at him, hairs on it’s back and tail standing right up. He lifted his palms out in surrender. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I didn’t see you, chill out, kitty!”

Once he took his mask off, the cat calmed down significantly and down sat on its hind legs, licking its front paw as if nothing happened. It was going to take two hours for the webbing on it’s back to dissolve.

Peter sighed, irritated and changed into his pj’s. He picked the cat up, cradling it like it was an infant, it was fatter and heavier than he anticipated, and luckily, this time it didn’t try to scratch his cheeks this time. He brought it into the living room, reading the heart-shaped name tag on it's collar.

Aunt May was just closing the apartment door and spun around to him, her eyes wide when she saw what he was holding; “Peter, please don’t tell me that’s Mrs. Rodriguez’s cat, because she was just here looking for it.”

“May, this is Marbles,” he held it up, and it meowed at her. 

“Oh God, is that your web on her?”

“Yup, and it's stuck,” he sat down at the dining table and rested the cat on it. “Do you think Mrs. Rodriguez will notice if we shaved some of her fur to get it off?”

She chuckled. “Yes, honey, I think she will.”

“I guess she’s ours for the time being.” He lifted the cat off the table and set it onto the floor. It then bumped its head against Peter’s leg, rubbing against it as a show of affection. That coaxed a smile from him. 

“Here’s some internship applications I printed out for you,” May passed him some files filled with papers and leaflets to read later. He had to think about that sort of stuff now that college wasn’t too far away. He’d been less motivated in recent months though, the prospect of it didn’t seem as exciting as it once was now that he and Ned weren’t going to experience it together.

“Thanks, May,” he said, leafing through the options. Of course, he could just go to Stark Industries again but he had a ‘certificate’ from that already, and he wanted actual work experience that didn’t have Tony checking in on his every step. After chatting with May for a bit he headed for bed, Marbles following at his feet to his room. _Oh geez, she’s going to like coming here now. _

The cat hopped onto his desk as he checked in with Karen;

“Karen, scan footage from tonight’s patrol,” a hologram reel of the night played back for him. “Stop there.” He gestured at the footage of the mysterious hooded knife girl. “Could I please get an ID on this person?”

“_I’ll scan through the criminal databases and see what I can find,” _she said.

Marbles meowed beside him, swiping her paw through the hologram that fazed in and out at her touch.

“Do you think we have a new neighbourhood hero around, Marbs?” He asked the cat, petting his head. “Oh and also scan through any footage from old patrols,” he told Karen, “they could be from around here if they were at Delmar’s.”

* * *

**Laura **

She dreamt about her mum, the morning pancakes she made Saturdays, long drives to Coney Island in the summers. It was just them for her whole life. They had some hard times with money but they always pulled through. Suddenly, those memories were overridden by the robber from last night shooting her, the punch of pain from the bullet, and the wet stain of warm blood on her palm.

She woke up in a cold sweat to pounding on her door;

“Laura...Laura, are you up? You’re going to be late for your first day.” Riley said from the other side.

She moaned and rolled over to her alarm clock. _Fuck. _Laura threw her blankets off, “yeah I’m up!” She hollered and dashed to the bathroom to get ready at lightening speed. She had this whole plan for her morning of the first day and it all went to waste now that she was running late. Laura threw on a lightweight flannel and some jeans and headed out the door with toast Riley made and a good luck wish.

She made it for the train in a nick of time; it stopped directly beside the school, her new school. Laura felt giddy inside to finally be here. MidTown Tech, as it was apparent from the moment she walked in, was vastly different from her old high school. The student body, how they dressed, how they spoke, the sleek science facilities, the expansive range of extra-curiculars. The entrance exam had a 45% failure rate. _And I made it._ She had to pat herself on the back for that. It was cool to see the place alive and bustling with students. She headed to reception first to ask for her homeroom class.

“Here you go,” the receptionist handed her the orientation pack. “Enjoy your first day!”

“Thanks!”

Before she reached for the door, Laura tripped and fell flat on her face. For someone who had feline-like balance now, she wasn't expecting it. 

Grunting, she rolled onto her butt and looked at her feet—

Talon-like metal projections came from either foot, stabbing through her brand new sneakers.

“_No. _Oh God no.”

“Are you okay?” The receptionist peeked over the counter.

Laura rushed to her feet, “y-yeah, yeah I’m fine.”

She sprinted to the bathrooms, locking herself in a stall.

“What the fuck, what the fuck are these?” She half-shouted , half whispered at her feet, she put down the toilet seat and propped her foot on it. The claws on one hand withdraw at will this time for her to compare them. _Same thickness, material, slightly curved downwards, 9 or 10 inches._

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit!” She cursed under her breath, her heart pounding in her ears as she started to panic. 

_I have...talons, like an eagle, or worse—like a chicken! _She only just got the hang of the claws and the crazy-fast healing powers, and now this? _They're coming out of everywhere now, whats' next? Claws out of my ass too? The top of my head? Fuck. _

She punched the side of the stall, groaning in frustration, some of the wall paint chipping off onto her fist.

The morning bell for homeroom rung, she didn’t want to be late for _homeroom _and make a fool of herself on the first day. Laura pressed the foot talons against the wall, one at a time, they sheathed back in easily, yet both had ripped through the laces of her sneakers, leaving a gaping hole where her blue French-fry socks peeked out.

_Perfect, just perfect. _

She tried to salvage the laces as best she could to hide the holes. After checking that the bathroom was clear of any stragglers, she ran to homeroom.

...

“Welcome back, everyone. These are your new schedules for the year.” Mrs. Brigella handed out them out. “We also have six new students joining our homeroom this year, please give them a warm welcome to MidTown Tech!”

She then proceeded to read out attendance, “Laura Song Kinney.”

Laura lifted her hand up at her name and quickly put it back down again as she finished off the K last names.

Once she was done, everyone started to mingle with one another, catching up with classmates, getting to know the new kids. All of the new students except her had parents who were incredibly successful alumni; everyone knew them by reputation alone. 

Strange that was what made her the odd one out this time, her powers had nothing to do with it.

Laura stayed rooted to her seat in the back of the room, studying her schedule, but really she was peeking beneath her desk at her shoes. Her insecurities were starting to gnaw at her stomach, being new, being a girl, being a freakshow. She didn’t want to stand up and have people asking questions, _or worse, seeing my claw toenails pop out. Gross_. 

She shifted uneasily in her seat looking at a poster for track and field try-outs. Her endurance and speed had also been enhanced and she could sprint a marathon now if she wanted. _Would it be cheating if I joined? _

She peeped at the clock on the wall waiting for the next bell. She was starting to think she was going to be a loner for the rest of the school year, not that it was anything new for Laura, but she'd wanted something different this time around, yet no one seemed interested in her, and she wasn't making an effort either. _The hour’s almost up. I bet no one is going to ask me what I did for summer break—_

“Hey.”

The desk beside her was suddenly occupied by one of her classmates. He smiled and gave her a small wave.

“How was your summer?” He placed a hand on his chest. “I’m Peter by the way.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Laura **

Laura looked at the guy in the desk beside her and refrained from narrowing her eyes at him. After years of very under-funded public high schools where everyone was a little bit messed up one-way or another, she had a habit of assuming the worst in her classmates. But she decided to go easy on him, since he was the first person who seemed like they wanted to get to know her.

“I’m Laura, nice to meet you.” She returned the smile, perking up in her seat. “My summer was okay.” She prayed on the inside that this wouldn’t be awkward.

“How do you like MidTown Tech so far?” Asked Peter.

“I mean it’s still homeroom and you’re the first person I’ve actually spoken to that isn’t Mrs. Brigella or the receptionist.”

“I’ll ask you again in a few hours,” he replied, brightly. “We have Mr. Carmel’s biology class together first period on Monday’s right?” 

“Yeah, what’s Mr. Carmel like?”

“He’s great! He’s like—” Peter tapped his chin and thought for a moment, “have you ever seen Back to the Future?”

“Um, no.”

“Oh,” he replied flatly, trying to hold onto the conversation. “Well he’s like Dr. Emmett in that.”

“Oh. Okay.” _I guess it _was_ awkward after all. _The bell rang to save her.

“That’s the bell—”

“I can show you to class,” he quickly stood with her, slinging his backpack on. “We’re both going there anyway.”

Thankfully, Peter didn’t insist on sitting next to her, he wasn’t new so he took his designated seat. Throughout the class, once or twice she caught him glancing at her, and it got her paranoid. _Did he see something?_ She was positive none of the claws or talons had poked out uninvited.

Shortly after Mr. Carmel handed out the giant syllabus, she knew she had other things to worry about besides if her new classmates noticed her powers. Laura felt out of her league with these genius-level kids when she barely scraped by the entrance exam. The imposter syndrome seeped in even further. Laura realized she had a lot of catching up to do to get on the same level as everyone else.

_This is going to be harder than I thought it would be._

At lunch she located her locker, her arms weighed down by the four new thick textbooks and homework that was due tomorrow. From the corner of her eye, she saw Peter on opposite wall of lockers; she hoped he wouldn’t come up to her. She didn’t think she could handle his mild disappointment at not knowing his movie references. _It’s okay Laura, you’ll meet other people, just be patient. _

The school gave out randomized locker combinations for everyone, but after a few tries, hers refused to obey her.

“Open, goddammit!” She grunted rattling the lock in frustration. She smacked her wrist on it, but lacking a gauge of her own strength she’d left a dent in the metal. 

“Perfect,” she sighed in frustration. Laura switched her books out, yet when she tried to shut it close, it wouldn’t anymore. _Great. It’s wrecked, no thanks to me. _

...

* * *

Mrs. Lockwood stamped down on the heavy-duty stapler excited to hand out the new Drama syllabus to the incoming freshmen. The arts had taken a funding hit after the Blip but she was hopeful for the new school year. As she stacked the papers up on her desk, she heard the doors to the theater open. She was anticipating a new student to wander in but instead it was Penelope Van Houtten.

She tried hard not to scoff in exasperation. Penelope was a sophomore, conventionally pretty, with a wealthy family, who gave plenty of donations to MidTown yearly. Somehow that meant every teacher was obliged to listen to whatever she said in order to keep her happy.

Mrs Lockwood put on her best fake smile;“Hello Penelope, welcome back, are you interested in this year’s play—”

“Mrs. Lockwood...” she began, too sweet for her not to know this was some ploy she was cooking up. What more did the girl want? She was President of the student union, an honor student and captain of the track and field team.

“From what I heard you were going with Susanne Herburg for the president of the dance committee.”

_Ah this is what she wants now. _“Yes dear, she did a fantastic job last year with the décor—”

“I’m sorry Mrs. Lockwood,” she cut her off brusquely, and ruder than her usual platitudes. Normally she’d go around in circles trying to convince her of something. Mrs Lockwood had made it her case not to bestow the entire world at Penelope’s feet if she could help it.

“I just think I could do so much better,” she said and touched her French-manicured fingers against her Chanel sweater. “I was on prom committee last year for public relations and the turn out was _huge, _everyone was so impressed._” _

Mrs Lockwood sighed and continued stapling the syllabuses. “I’m aware Penelope, but Susanne approached me first before the summer, it wouldn’t be right if I simply handed it over—”

A sweet scent struck her nose, the smell of her mother’s garden roses in the spring; it was nostalgic and too distracting for her not to look up at Ms Van Houtten’s big hazel eyes, which were suddenly very close.

“Mrs. Lockwood,” she smiled wickedly at her, malice dripping in her words. Penelope leaned closer. “That position is _mine_. You’re going to tell Susanne Herburg that the job isn’t hers; it belongs to me, you’re going to tell her you’re sorry, but her little brain just isn’t qualified to handle it.”

Mrs Lockwood felt the sweat drip down her collarbone, she wanted to say no, she wanted to tell this uptight-entitled bitch of a student that she wasn’t going to get that position...but...she couldn’t. She swallowed and nodded insistently, “yes, yes, I’ll tell her right away. The position is yours Penelope.”

“Why thank you, Mrs Lockwood,” Penelope smacked her shoulder fondly, “you are too kind, tell me that I’m the best at what I do.”

She wanted to choke on her words, but she could feel them being forced out of her and she couldn’t stop it; “Y-you’re the best at what you do, P-Penelope.”

“Good,” Penelope gave her a charming wink and then swiped a syllabus off the stack. “Oh, you’re doing West Side Story this year, I’ll see you at the auditions, then.”

* * *

**Laura**

Laura had time to get to 5th period French after lunch so she took the long way, stopping in front of the school’s expansive trophy case. Inside were trophies for various sports, academics, arts and languages, ranging of different sizes and shapes in their golden splendor. She strolled and stopped in front of a trophy with a golden owl, it’s wings spread wide, mounted on top of an empty plaque. _The Athena Award, _it simple read.

“Beautiful isn’t it?” Said a voice beside her. Laura turned to peer up at one of the prettiest girls she had ever seen; she had shimmery caramel hair and eyes that matched, and high cheekbones that could cut glass.

“Hey there,” she turned to her extending her hand for a shake. “I’m Penelope Van Houtten.”

“Laura.” She didn’t think it was actually a thing to introduce oneself with last names too. It wasn’t like there weren’t pretty girls in her old school, but Penelope was another level of immaculate and good looks only money could afford.

“The Athena award is a guarantee ticket into any of the alumni top choices for college; Columbia, Princeton, MIT, Brown, you name it,” she went on. “The best grades and best extra-curricular participation gets in. You interested?

Laura wasn’t aiming quite that high for college, heck she didn’t really know if she could afford it. Riley and her hadn’t had that conversation. “Not really, but I guess it’d be really cool—”

“Where were you from before this?” Penelope interrupted her.

She frowned at her crassness, but let it slide. “Uh, why do you ask?” Laura’s red alert was dialled all the way to one hundred. She was wondering when she was going to meet the bullies of her new school. For a hot minute she started to think bullies’ and mean girls didn’t exist in MidTown Tech.

“The class size is so small here after the Blip,” said Penelope, “we hardly get any new students during junior year, I’m surprised they let you in.”

“Yeah… I was in Hell’s Kitchen before this, I suppose I did well in the entrance exam and interview.”

“Hell’s Kitchen huh. We definitely don’t get people from there over here.” 

Clearly Penelope was on a power trip and Laura tried to think of an exit strategy until the conversation became even weirder;

“I like your watch,” Penelope gestured at her wrist. It was her mother’s watch, the most expensive thing Laura owned.

“Thanks.”

Suddenly Laura’s nose was bombarded with the sweet smell of her mum’s pancakes. She turned her head to the side wondering where it was coming from, but Penelope was still talking to her;

“I think it’d look better on me, don’t you agree?” She said. “Do you want to hand it over?”

Laura blinked at her, completely thrown by what she said; “excuse me, what?” _Did I hear her correctly? _

Penelope chuckled, delicately covering her mouth with her hand, but she stood her ground, “the_ watch._” She tapped her foot, waiting for it. Laura couldn’t believe what she was hearing and seeing.

“Uh—_What_?” She repeated, rearing away from her; “you can totally find this online if you want, a second hand version, if you want it so bad.”

Penelope frowned in confusion like she’d just discovered the Earth wasn’t flat. That pride she wore a second ago, vanished, her face even looked...pale, despite the blush she wore on her cheeks. She blinked rapidly, stunned.

Laura couldn’t figure out if this girl actually believed _demanding_ for her watch would work or if she had a split personality disorder where her meaner-nastier side came out without her knowing it.

Whatever it was, Laura wasn’t about to tolerate it any further.

“Huh...online, you say,” Penelope mused, her voice losing volume. 

“Yeah...” Laura arched a brow and glanced at her Cartier bracelet and snorted in derision. “Seems like you could afford it yourself instead of forcing me to give mine to you, which is rude, and frankly, a little entitled, don’t you think? Excuse me.”

Laura got the hell out of there, fast walking to her French class. Between Peter and Penelope she hadn’t met a single person she even wanted to be friends with at MidTown.

“Why are people here so weird?”

...

With her locker broken and request for a new one put in, Laura had no choice but to carry everything she owned around from class to class. The second to last period rolled around. The one she dreaded the most; PE. She dumped her books on a bench in the locker room, ignoring the ‘what-the-hell’ looks from the other girls there. Laura tried to get out of it, explaining to Mrs. Garth that her shoes were wrecked, truthfully they were. Yet the disgruntled, grey-haired instructor just asked what her shoes size was and tossed her a pair from the lost and found. Laura prayed the foot talons didn’t make an appearance now. She was the last one to get changed, thinking she as the only loser who was late until she almost crashed into Peter at the gym doors. He smiled at her and opened his mouth to say something when a whistled blared across the court drawing 20 pairs of eyes to them.

“Ms. Kinney, Mr. Parker! Tardy, tardy, tardy! We’re all waiting for you- on the field, _now!” _She bellowed.

She split everyone into co-ed batches for fitness tests and sprints. Run of the mill first day procedures when everyone comes back from summer, from what Laura overheard her classmates. She knew the routine, fitness tests was a way to assess who was better at what, and who was hopeless at sports. Usually that meant Laura always got picked last during team sports.

“Alright, students, give it everything you got!” Mrs Garth balked at them, as she got to her starting point on the line once it was her turn for the 500 metre sprint. Laura used to get away with skipping a whole years worth of gym classes by saying she had her period, because the male PE teacher was a moron, but it wasn’t going to work here.

Laura watched as the other four students on the adjacent tracks got into their running stance. _What is this, the Olympics? _She paid no mind them. At the blow of the whistle she was off. As she predicted, she was far ahead of the others, enough that she could see people on the bleachers standing up, suddenly paying attention to how fast she was going. Laura was putting about 50% effort into it truth be told, but still speeding to the finish line.

_Fuck, be normal Laura, be normal. _She slowed down a pinch, but still won overall.

Afterwards she bent over and held onto her knees, pretending to be absolutely winded, when frankly, she could have gone around another five times. She watched the laces of the lost and found shoes, willing for the talons to stay put; _don’t come out, please don’t come out. _

Mrs. Garth’s whistle dropped from her mouth and for a lady who looked like she hadn’t smiled in 20 years, she sang her praises to Laura, insisting she join the varsity track and field team. She waved it off modestly. Once PE was over she hurried off on her own to get changed for Chemistry before anyone could approach her about it.

_You’re cheating Laura, cheating._

Chemistry didn’t make her feel any better, Mr. Silvia had a word with her about what she needed to read to catch up with everyone else. It hardly seemed fair for one student to have to do twice the work in comparison to the others, but if she wanted to maintain her A average from her old school here, she had to do it.

Swallowing her protestations as he handed her the extra-credit booklets, she remained seated at the back of the class after the bell rang. The day had felt so long. She was bone-tired, her head swirling as she tried to come to terms with what she’d willingly gotten herself into by coming to this school.

“Hey again.”

Peter appearing by her desk startled her. He had his backpack slung over one shoulder.

“Oh, hey.”

“Extra credit?” He asked, gesturing at the booklet on the desk.

“Er yeah, something like that,” she replied, a little embarrassed, and quickly swiped the books into her backpack. “Do you know anything about electrophilic substitution?”

“Yeah, we covered it before the summer.”

“Yeah, I heard, and a lot more than that too,” she replied, trying not to sound too grouchy at the mountain of work she had. Peter sat down in the next desk and rested his backpack on his lap, unzipping it.

“Here. These are my notes on those chapters,” he handed a notebook to her. 

Thrown by his generosity, Laura held out her hand to stop him. “Oh no, you don’t have to give me your notes—”

“Nah, nah, go ahead,” he insisted, resting the notebook on her desk. “I did summer school with Mr. Silvia, the teaching was more one-on-one so he gave me loads of tips and practice questions. I think it could be useful—or not, up to you,” he shrugged. Students here actually _did_ summer school? It made her feel marginally better about her situation. 

“Thanks,” she said, stuffing the notebook into her backpack. “Mrs. Garth takes PE kind of seriously huh.”

“Yeah, I think she thinks we’re all going to become marines one day. But your time for the 500 meters track was freaking amazing. Everyone was talking about it.” 

Laura blushed and gathered her textbooks in her arms. “Yeah...I’ve been training over the summer, I wanted to get into sports when I came here—so yeah,” she lied,as they walked out of the classroom together to the front exit.

“That’s cool,” he said.

She peered above her at the flat screen TV broadcasting the school news. Laura smirked at the bad graphics and stiff rapport between the student reporters. They were giving an update on Spider-Man, using a blurred shot of him from YouTube.

“They have a whole segment on the news for him, huh?”

“Yeah,” said Peter, grinning wide, “he’s a pretty big deal around here.”

She stifled a laugh. “The graphic’s team doesn’t do him justice.”

“I know him.”

Laura whipped her head to him. “Come on,” she said with a wry look. “Seriously? _You_ know Spider-Man? The Spider-Man?”

Peter uncrossed and crossed his arms, coming to his own defense. “Yeah. We’re friends.” He shrugged, feigning nonchalance.

_Is it just me or did his voice go up an octave higher? _Laura frowned at him for a long moment and he blinked at her with wide doe-eyes.

“I don’t believe you.”

“I mean it,” he clutched his chest, hands gesturing in large sweeps, “ask anyone around here.”

“Sure,” she replied, unconvinced. If he was trying to impress her, he was going to have to do better than that.

They reached the bottom of the main steps as he asked small-talk questions like where she stayed, and what train she was taking to get home. It turned out; Peter wasn’t so bad, he was just eager and dorky. 

“Hey um,” he started, turning to her, rubbing his palms together, fixing his backpack. “I-I know we just met but...Mr. Carmel usually let’s us choose our lab partners. Do you want to maybe, partner up with me?” 

“Oh… lab partners? I hadn’t thought of that to be honest.”

He could sense her trepidation and held up his palms; “I promise I’m not a slacker, you can trust me on that. You won’t do everything on your own; teamwork is very, very important to me, and I won’t try to burn off your eyebrows or anything. Promise.”

Laura just stared at him, bemused. His hands were moving so much; Peter wrapped them behind his back, wearing a hopeful smile as he waited for her answer.

Despite the fact he was probably dying of awkwardness on the inside, it was actually endearing, in it’s own way. Honestly, her first day could have gone a lot worse, and as it was; he was the only person here who had been nice to her. Perhaps he wasn’t the type of friend she was expecting to make, but then again, she never really had friends either. _Beggars can’t be choosers, right?_

“Yeah sure, why not? Lab partners it is.”

....

* * *

After school, Penelope slammed the front door of the apartment and marched inside through the kitchen, feeling a scream bubbling in her throat; _it didn’t work. It didn’t work on that snarky bitch from that inner-city school. _

She swung her handbag so hard she knocked over a vase and it topped over onto the floor. In the nick of time, her nanny; Helga walked in and dived down to catch it like a football. Helga hurried to her feet and settled the vase on the island counter as delicate as an infant. “Ms Penelope! That is your mother’s antique vase, it is worth a fortune! You must be more careful,” she scolded.

Penelope scoffed and rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “Read the room, Helga, I’m angry, okay?”

Helga’s shoulder’s fell, her nanny had more patience in her pinky finger than either of Penelope’s parents had combined. “You have so much anger these days, Ms Penelope. I don’t understand.”

Penelope crossed her arms, they had this argument a million times, she was so sick of it, _was she thick in the skull?_ Wasn’t it obvious why she was pissed these days? “My mum’s not around to give a crap about an antique vase, so what does it matter if it’s broken? Dad will buy a new one when he comes back from wherever the _fuck _he is.” The Blip took her mother and that sent her dad half way across the world on an extended grief holiday. The entire world-including her father-forgot that she existed. Helga was the only one who stuck around, as pathetic as that was. 

“I mourn too, dear. I miss her so much,” said Helga with a pained expression. “But you must control your emotions and find healthier ways to let it out. Too much anger is poison for the soul,” she said, pointing at her own chest.

She narrowed her eyes to slits at her and leaned a hand on the counter. Her constant inspirational quotes were insufferable;

“I think you should go drink some poison yourself.”

Helga’s face changed, to that classic stupefied look, nostrils flaring, big eyes, dilated pupils, she started to sweat on her forehead. Penelope watched in quiet fascination as her powers did their magic on her nanny. Helga bent down, opened the sink cabinet and took out a bottle of bleach, unscrewing the cap, lifting it towards her mouth.

“Stop!” Penelope grasped the bottle of bleach and pulled it down, away from Helga’s mouth. “Don’t. Don’t. Put the bleach down.”

“Yes, Ms. Penelope,” she replied, as obedient as a dog.

That was the third time it happened; when she got mad, lashed out at someone and it nearly killed them. ‘_Go jump off a bridge,’ ‘I wish a bus hit you,’ ‘drink some poison.’ _It was always something along those lines but she didn’t actually _mean _it. “I’d like to be alone now, you can go,” she instructed her. The pheromones would wear off in less than hour. “I want you to take a nap and forget about trying to drink bleach.”

She nodded with a dumb smile; “of course, Ms. Penelope, anything you say.” 

Penelope fixed her hair and composed herself, she wasn’t going to let this- or the new student who her powers didn’t work on- ruin her day. _Obviously I just need a little more practice, and anyone who I want under my thumb _will _be under my thumb. _

“And when you wake up, I’d like some macaroons from Le Petit Paris, please,” she told Helga, putting her handbag back on. “The coffee and rose ones.”

* * *

**Laura **

She should be at home, finishing off her Statistics homework, instead, here she was in an all black outfit, hood, and mask covering her lower-face, crouching on a fire escape. Her first week at Midtown Tech had flown past. She’d gone out every night since the night she stopped the robbers, to train in the park, to stop a crime.

Helping someone, defending someone, chasing a bad guy away. It wasn’t something she ever thought she could do with these powers, but now that she knew she couldn’t get hurt, everything changed. Her martial arts training still had much to be desired but she made up for her it in her speed and acrobatics, not to mention the lethality of the claws if she ever needed to put them to use.

The claws coming out of her feet were good for climbing and hanging from things but she had yet to figure out a way to use them when she got into fights. Laura bought a police scanner online and set it up in her closet beneath the racks her clothes, like her own little secret lair. She listened to it rattle off police codes and memorised them. It was safer this way; so Riley wouldn’t hear it should she ever wander past her door.

Laura straightened from her hiding spot as the dealer she’d been tracking appeared. He smelt of cheap cologne and marijuana, and a medley of other drugs, depending on the day. She used her foot talons to swing upside down to him;

“Boo.”

He yelped and reared backwards as she flipped onto the ground and into a roundhouse kick at his chest. He got up and swiped a knife that managed to cut her arm, but Laura didn’t flinch, ever since she was shot, nothing could hurt her as much as that bullet did.

Her claws unsheathed and she went for him.

…

She made short work of the dealer with three quick moves.

“What the hell do you think you are little girl?” He hissed at her as she fumbled with the heavy-duty zip ties she got on E-bay to tie him. Then somewhere above her a white thread-like substance shot down, latched onto the perp and flung against the wall. It didn’t take a genius to know what that was. Laura spun about as Spider-Man landed onto the dumpster nearest to her and she gasped out loud to see him, nonetheless.

“Hey, how’s your night going?” He asked coolly, crouching down.

She took a careful step back from him, her heart racing. “S-Spider-Man.”

“Yeah, that’s me,” he made as show of turning up an imaginary collar. “I got to say I wasn’t expecting any kind of competition in this field. You know how tight the job market is these days.”

“Yeah, you tell her Spider-Man!” Hooted the drug dealer, still pinned by the webbing.

“Hey dude, we’re trying to have a conversation over here,” Spider-Man called to him, gesturing between them. 

“Sorry man,” the dealer bowed his head, _wow he actually means it. _

Laura took another step back as Spider-Man hopped down to ground level with her. She’d made it a point to stay out of his patrol zones, not go after anyone too high up that he’d notice. She knew what happened to powered individuals (via technology or biologically enhanced,, Laura wasn’t sure what she was) who weren’t registered with the government. The last thing she wanted was to get caught, or worse, unmasked and arrested by the police and subsequently her foster parent, Sergeant Riley.

“Are you hurt?” He asked, coming nearer.

“No, I’m fine.”

“Really? Cuz I saw him cut you.”

“I’m fine, not a scratch. See.” She lifted her arm to him and pulled the sleeve down. Her sleeve was black and obscured any blood, but nonetheless the skin was pristine and unmarked.

His white eyes pieces squinted at her arm. “Whoa, I swear I saw him—”

“Look,” she held her arm out to him so he would stop coming any closer. “I’m not going to pretend like you won’t be able to catch me if I tried to run, so are you going to arrest me or not?”

Spider-Man shook his head adamantly; “whoa, whoa, hold on a sec, _why_ would I arrest you? You realize I can’t actually arrest anyone, right?” 

The logistics of it hadn’t occurred to Laura. “I’m not registered in the Sokovia accords,” she explained. “I’m basically a vigilante and I’m not popular as you are, apparently,” she cocked her head over at their drug dealer; _Spider-Man’s number one fan._ “If I’m causing any trouble for the local authorities or you, then message received.”

“Ignore him,” he waved a dismissive hand at the dealer. “That’s not my intention here at all. None of this is a problem for me.”

“Soo if you’re not arresting me am I on your turf or something?”

“No, no, no,” he said. “Let me be clear; I have absolutely no problem with what you’re doing, I just— well,” he shrugged and, his fingers curling as he tried to find the right words for it; “I was around here first so I kind of feel obligated to make sure any newcomers aren’t ‘dodgy’ you know? Not everyone with powers are good people.”

She frowned at him, skeptical. “So...am I ‘dodgy?’”

“No! No, you’re not, not dodgy at all,” he insisted. “You’re good. Spider-Man stamp of approval,” he said making a saluting gesture, even though it would’ve made more sense to make a stamping one.

Clearly this guy didn’t have a clue what the hell he was talking about.

“Right. Thanks, I guess...”

He cleared his throat and nodded at her. “Anyway, welcome to the neighbourhood!” He shot out a web high above them. “I called the cops to pick our friend up,” he used his thumb to point at dealer. “Just a— be careful, okay?” He said, and not unkindly. “This kind of stuff can get difficult sometimes,” and even though he was a bit all over the place, she heard the earnest concern and wisdom in his words.

Laura gave him an affirmative nod and he swung off into the night sky. 

* * *

**Peter**

_“So you’re saying there’s nothing we need to be worried about, Peter?” _

He dodged a couple of students rushing past him through the cafeteria doors. “Yeah Happy, trust me. I spoke with her last night on patrol and she seems solid, not dangerous," he said, on his phone call to Happy as he walked to the school study hall. 

_“Mmhm, alright kid, I’ll let Tony know. But he’s insisted you keep a close watch on her, in case. You say you still don’t have an ID on her?” _

_“_Nope,” Peter lied, as he spotted Laura in the far corner of hall. “I think we can let her have her privacy, for now.” He hung up. _Mr. Stark and Happy don’t need to know _everything _that happens in__ my life. _It wasn't everyday a new teenage hero rolled into town. 

He strolled towards her, she was sat down, hunched over her books. He hadn’t put in this much effort to make friends with someone in a while. He was rusty at it. Wearing a mask and swinging around New York as this anonymous hero-figure was way easier. Just being Peter Parker, had a tendency to suck these days.

He’d come to MidTown tech with the intake of freshmen a couple years ago and stayed friends with them. It was straightforward for him ever since, and of course, he had Ned. But it was lonely days now and the solitude and boredom had a way of getting to him; ‘mood swings,’ and ‘little angry man’ were the terms May used when Peter got riled up over the dumbest things. Evidently his grades took a hit too as he increased his patrol hours as Spider-Man to make up for the time spent alone, and of course to atone for his mistakes on Titan. No matter what Mr. Stark said that day at the park-about none of this being his fault-he still had to do something about his depression.

Sometimes, Peter could hear Ned in the back of his head; when he had trouble figuring out a physics question, or writing an algorithm during Robotics that Ned would’ve nailed in ten seconds. He was the reason Peter even had a copy of the Karen software on a desk pod instead of just inside his suit.

Even now as Peter swallowed his nerves to talk to the new friend he made-and the new masked hero in Queens-he heard Ned go; _yeah dude, she’s pretty, like really pretty. _He tried not to let any of those factors get in the way of figuring out what her powers were. After taking the leap and introducing himself (despite not having made an effort to be social in the 10 months since the Blip), he forced himself out of his comfort zone to get close to her. After getting to know her the past week he knew she wasn’t dangerous. 

“Laura,” he greeted plopping down in the seat next to her, and she took out her ear phones. He remembered she broke her headphones when he rescued her from getting hit by a car. It was that footage that Karen used to get an ID on her.

“Check it,” he placed a stack of DVD’s on the table, pointing at every single one enthusiastically; “Alien, Back to Future, Empire Strikes Back, and...I can’t believe this; Friends.”

She peered at the stack: “All ten seasons of Friends. Are you kidding me?”

“Everyone has seen it, _everyone,_ except you.”

“Why the box set? No one uses CD’s anymore.”

“Because you told me you don’t have Netflix and neither do I, so you can’t leech off my account.”

“Fine,” she slid the stack over to her side of the table, “ I will give it a shot, if it’ll get you shut up about it, and maybe I’ll understand half of the references you make.”

“Thank you,” he bowed to her jokingly. “Was that so hard?”

She shook her head, smirking at himand continued stamping on her calculator for the Stats homework she was behind on because of all the hero business taking up her evenings.

“So... I was thinking we should sign up for the science fair,” said Peter.

Laura lifted her head to him, exhaling loud; “Peter, I don’t have time for a science fair, okay? I haven’t even done Mr. Silvia’s homework and it’s due next period. Ugh, why do I do this to myself?”

_Oh I know the feeling, leaving homework to the last minute to do go on patrol. _“You can copy my homework, for Chem, Bio, Stats, anything you want,” he offered brightly.

“How am I supposed to learn anything if I just copy your homework? Besides, why do you want to join the science fair?”

“It’s fun, it’s always fun,” he explained, “plus, I haven’t missed a single science fair since Grade 7.” His throat felt tight around that part, his partner for science fair was always Ned. It felt like a betrayal to do it without him, but he knew Ned would want him to keep up the tradition until senior year. “_And_ there’s a five hundred dollar prize,” he added as an afterthought and that peaked her interest enough that she didn’t look annoyed with him anymore;

“Huh,” she tapped the pen on her chin, “okay, I’ll think about it.”

“Sure, we can pick any topic you want, I don’t mind,” he said, he peered at her arm where she had gotten cut by the dealer. “Can I borrow that green pen of yours?”

“Sure.” She rifled through her pencil case and rolled it to him. He was staring right at her arm and she frowned at him, confused;

“What?”

“Nothing,” he shook his head, taking the pen. Peter was till honing his spider-sense but he was certain she was injured. He tried to play it off before she could be wary of anything;

“Um, do you have a red one too?”

_Healing powers, it definitely has to be healing powers, _he concluded, smiling at her as she got the pen for him.

* * *

“The most stable sample we have, doctor,” the assistant hurried in through the sleek glass doors of the lab, delicately clutching the rack of specimens with both hands.

“No bone marrow sample?” Asked the doctor, from above his circular rimmed glasses. He had been busy looking beneath a high-powered microscope at earlier samples the assistant had provided.

The assistant gulped nervously and shook his head, he didn’t want to disappoint but he knew the doctor would be even more upset if he lied. “Our contact in the hospital said they couldn’t justify taking that sample from an patient who is a minor without looking...suspicious.”

“Mmhm. That’s unfortunate,” the doctor mused monotonously, with the glacier-cold look. He gestured for him to place the samples on the counter next to him.

“But there is good news,” he said, containing his excitement in this professional setting. He wanted to give his boss something he could work with, something valuable, so he wouldn’t kick him to the curb like the others before him. “I took the initiative and examined them first, the cells on subject X-23 are evidently regenerating at rates faster than anything we’ve ever seen before. They act like cancer cells; there is hyperplasia, metaplasia, but no signs of malignant growth. And there’s more.” He slipped in a slide beneath the high-powered microscope for the doctor to observe for himself.

“Stem cells,” he said, again, blank-faced, he had no idea what he was thinking.

The assistant nodded adamantly. “Indeed sir, within every cell in her body, whether it be skin tissue, or blood, or cheek swabs. It’s amazing. This is an enhanced individual like nothing we’ve ever seen before.”

“This one isn’t like the others,” said the doctor, leaning away form the microscope. “She wasn’t made to be like this, this change manifested in her, _naturally_.”

Stumped, and suddenly at a loss for explanations he fumbled for his words. “S-sorry, doctor, I don’t follow, I thought we were conducting trials to test remakes of the super-soldier serum I—”

“This is so far beyond remakes of a world war two super-serum, son, you’re not looking close enough,” said the doctor sternly. “Sample X-23’s records from 10 months ago after the Blip, were normal in all cell lines,” he pointed at the 10 foot wide monitor ahead of them, showing the reports of the samples they took. “Then 3 months ago, her dormant DNA mutated. It’s not just her; there are others too,” the doctor threw up other reports of samples with similar DNA irregularities. “Though not all survive the process of re-birth, unfortunately. Nothing can be done if the children are too weak beforehand as what happened with X 1 through 22. Although, X-24 looks promising.”

The doctor brought up a small clip of a 12-foot stone-creature with four limbs, spitting fire before the screen cut to black. “X-24 is not as stable as X-23, but not to worry, I am formulating a solution for all our current problems as we speak. We will need more subjects, though.” 

Then, finally after months of working under him, the doctor showed a semblance of a warmer emotion; he smiled, eyes lighting up.

“It’s happening, it’s finally happening. Like he said it would...the global energy spike after invasion in Wakanda was what we needed to activate it.”

The assistant was completely lost as to where his boss was getting at. Remaking the super-soldier serum that infused Captain America made more sense to him. After the blip, they needed to protect their nation from future alien threats, their nation’s future being the young men and women that populated their great nation. Mutated DNA was whole other ballpark he wasn’t prepared for.

“Activated what, sir?” He dared to ask.

The doctor leaned back in the seat, with a satisfied, knowing smile, as all the pieces started to fall into place;

“The X-gene.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Laura**

_One foot in front of the other,_ she told herself as she balanced on a tree branch fifteen feet in the air. Laura sat down and then hung on the brunch by her knees. She tucked her t-shirt into the front of her jeans before it fell over her face, her hoodie dangling beneath her. She felt the blood rush with gravity to her head but the discomfort passed. Laura pulled herself into upside down ab crunches.

_One, two, three, four,_ she counted in her head, fighting the boredom for a third row in a night.

As good as her intentions were, she wasn’t doing much to reduce crime except stop a few petty thieves and break up bar fights. She wanted to do more, but where was she supposed to start? _How does one take down super-villains, and take down mafia organizations? _There was no manual for how to be a vigilante, with chapters on exit strategies and methods of surveillance. _I wish they taught this in school instead of Stats. _

She definitely needed more practice with her hand-to-hand combat. Getting knife slashes or stabbed by broken beer bottles, had ruined too many black-t-shirts for her. _I need to work on a costume, a hero-suit or something, everyone has that. _

She could hardly call herself a hero though.

_Twenty-nine, thirty, thirty-one, thirty-two. _

There was some good news; the fight she broke up yesterday at a dive bar had a YouTube video. Two guys were fighting over a girl—eventually the quarrel escalated into race and politics, or whatever, and involved fists. She got the girl to safety and diffused the situation (she tackled two large men, both a hundred pounds heavier than her, to the ground with as little force as possible). That had been funny to watch again and again on her phone in her bed at night. She woke up and it had 50,000 views and over 200 comments. She spent the morning scrolling through them on the subway; hundreds of anonymous usernames asking who she was; some claiming it was staged, others cheering her on. It was bizarre to be that much of celebrity for her 15 minutes of fame; no one had ever given a shit about what she did or who she was when she was Laura Kinney.

Nevertheless, in the end, Laura had to be careful too, to stay out of the police radar. If Riley suspected anything she would be in a lot of trouble.

As she reached her fiftieth crunch she peered ahead of her at the bulletin board and inspiration struck her. She backflipped to the ground, landing softly on her feet, heading towards the bulletin board;

** _‘MISSING: MADELINE MONTEGA’ _ **

...

_Could this be classified as stalking?_ Laura asked herself as she observed Mrs. Montega, carrying her groceries from her car to her apartment. Laura stood high up on the rooftops of the apartments across the street. It was after school the next day and she was supposed to meet Peter at his place to go over ideas for the science fair. He was so enthusiastic about it and she didn’t want to disappoint him by being late.

So far, it was actually pretty cool to have a friend, even just one. Truthfully, she’d never been invited to go over to someone’s house to hang out. She hoped she wouldn’t wind up an tongue-tied fumbling-mess when she got there and met his aunt.

As she watched Mrs Montega take out another bag of groceries, she asked herself if this was the right thing to do; stick herself in the nose of someone else’s tragedy, with the intention to help, but also the chance that she could make it worse, or even just be told to fuck off.

_And she has every right to do that. _

She swallowed her trepidations and fixed her backpack on her shoulder. Claws out; she scaled down the façade of the building to ground level. She adjusted her hair, t-shirt and slowly walked onto the pavement towards Madeline’s mother.

Laura cleared her throat. “Ahem, Mrs. Montega?"

She turned around, “yes, can I help you?" 

Laura gulped nervously, but she didn’t want to bail on the plan now. “No you don’t. Um, we bumped into each other once. You spoke to my—”

“Ah,” her face changed with recognition, “you were the girl with Sergeant Knight.” She didn’t look too pleased about that.

“Er yeah.”

“You don’t look much like her.”

“Yeah well that’s um—irrelevant,” she brushed it off, the lady couldn’t care less about her foster-story.

Mrs Montega huffed out, fixing her grip on the heavy bag of groceries in one hand. “What do you want?” She asked. “Unless you have news about my daughter, then I am not interested in any apologies from the sergeant that come through you.”

“She doesn’t know I’m here.”

Her frown deepened, “then how did you get this address?”

What was Laura to going to tell her? _My nose can __track you like a bloodhound tracks prey?_

“I saw you putting up posters about Madeline and it got me curious,” it was a partial lie; she hoped it didn’t show at her face, she was terrible at lying. “Why do you think she didn’t disappear during the Blip? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Her shoulders fell, tired with having to tell this story a hundred times before. “My Madeline has a heart condition, she had heart surgery when she was a child. She wouldn’t up and disappear without any of her medication. She knows how important the doctor’s appointments are, too. She’s in college and she went missing two days after the Blip, not on the day itself, because she sent me a text an hour after people started to disappear,” she told her, “anything else you want to know?”

She nodded, insisting that she go on, “yes, I have a few more questions, if that’s okay with you?”

* * *

**Peter**

He shut the front door of the apartment, undoing the tie around his collar. Having to wear these annoying choking-machines everyday was enough for him to consider turning down the internship altogether, _if I get an offer that is._

“How did the interview at Oscorp go?” May asked from the couch as he strolled in.

“I think it well. I don’t want to get my expectations high in case I don’t get it. I’ll know in about a week.”

“When’s the interview for Reed Industries?”

“In a week’s time, too,” said Peter; taking off the suit jacket he wore. He hoped it wasn’t a token of bad luck; the last time he wore it was Homecoming the night Liz’s dad ended being the Vulture. _What a night, it feels like a hundred years ago. _

“Oh don’t crease the sleeves,” May put her book down and came around, helping pull the sleeves off his arms. With consideration and care she gently laid down Uncle Ben’s jacket on the back of the couch before grabbing a hanger for it.

Peter went to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water. “Do you mind if a friend comes over?”

May’s eyes lit up, an eyebrow arching. “Oh. A friend.” He could understand her surprise; he hadn’t invited anyone over since Ned died. “Yes, of course he can. What’s his name?”

He scratched the back of his head, avoiding eye contact wit her—his first mistake. “Uhhhh, her name’s Laura.”

Her other eyebrow went up too and Peter felt the blush creep up his neck;

“Oh, Laura, huh,” May mused, her voice intrigued. "A girl."

“Noooo, it's not like that,” he laughed lightly, “we’re friends; just friends. She’s my lab partner, she’s coming over for science fair stuff.”

Aunt May shook her head amused, and hung up Uncle Ben’s jacket in the hall closet. “I wasn’t thinking of that at all. It’s nice to hear you’re making friends, Peter. It really is. I mean last year we were worried about your grades—”

“‘We?’” Peter interrupted, catching onto that.

Her face grew more serious, and he had a feeling he wasn’t going to like this. "Yes, 'we', Mr. Stark and I.”

“What? You _hate_ Mr. Stark,” he stated, growing more agitated by the second.

“Yes,” she nodded hard-heartedly, always angered by the mention of the topic. “For reasons you’re perfectly aware of; sending you home in a broken spaceship with a broken leg for starters.”

Peter put two and two together. “_You_ told him about summer school, didn't you? Have you been updating him on my life?”

“Yes, I have,” May admitted and stood her ground across from him as they tumbled into another one of their arguments that had grown frequent in the past year. 

His mouth dropped open and he scoffed; “are you for real, Aunt May?”

She crossed her arms giving him that no-nonsense stare. “You _failed_ a class, Peter; it is so unlike you. I had to push you to attend the summer classes in the first place. Not to mention you were going out _way_ past curfew that we agreed on. Don’t think I didn’t notice that either."

He threw his hands out against the counter, “_criminals_ don’t have curfews, Aunt May.”

“I don’t care, Peter,” she struck her hand down. “As long as you live under _this_ roof, you have to follow my instructions. I give you a lot of leniency to go out there as Spider-Man,” she said firmly. “I don’t ask for much else in return except for you to respect the rules I give you and to take school seriously." 

“Respect?” He guffawed, Peter knew he was pushing it, but he had to say what was on his mind. “You don’t have to go sharing my personal life with the entire world. I deserve to not have every bit of my life monitored.”

“I _just_ wanted him to talk to you,” she sat on the stool nearest him, and it was harder to argue with her when she was being nice and thinking of what was best for him, as she always was. “Do you know how hard it has been to talk to you, Peter?” She asked him with a strain in her voice. “How much you’ve changed since you came back?”

The hot air deflated out of him, he looked down at his hands, his lips pressed thin; “I tried to explain to you what I’m going through—”

“And I _listened_, but it wasn’t enough, was it?”

He sighed deeply; he didn’t want to seem ungrateful after everything she had sacrificed to take care of him. She was the only family he had. “Aunt May, come on that’s not—”

“It’s like you put up this giant wall in-between us. It’s been a slow process to get it to come down. Then I realized it wasn’t something that I could solve on my own. Mr. Stark could understand better than I did, and it’s okay to ask for help sometimes, sweetheart,” she said, gently.

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry,” he lifted his head to her. “I want this year to be different, for both of us.”

Aunt May smiled sympathetically at him. “And so do I. It’ll get easier, as long as you have that perspective that it will,” she said, rubbing her hand down his arm. “Now, I can’t wait to meet your new friend! Something normal in your life for a change, right?” She hopped off the stool and opened the fridge up, “what kinds of snacks does she like?” She asked, rattling off the options they had.

_Should I mention Laura has super-endurance, healing powers, enhanced senses and— oh yeah:_ claws?

“Yup. Normal,” he said quietly, sipping his water. “She has a thing for anything with cinnamon in it." 

* * *

**Laura**

Laura downed her lukewarm coffee in the kitchen and finished off her Cinnamon Toast Crunch. She wasn’t getting enough sleep these days with going out at night, the homework and now tracking down a missing Madeline. She could try stopping crime during the daytime, but she wasn’t confident being out and about with her claws unsheathed during the day. She’d scare people, otherwise. 

Last night, she scouted Madeline’s college dorm and spoke to some of her friends; although that hadn’t gone so well. Laura wasn’t exactly an expert at going undercover; being a detective, asking the right questions, it was still very new to her. Most of all she didn’t blend in with the college kids and they made her as an outsider within 10 minutes. There wasn’t much evidence collected as of yet, but Laura made her mission to continue tracking her until she got somewhere. The next step was to look into what the police had._ But how easy is it to break into a police station? And how can I do that without Riley knowing? _

It was a stupid idea. She had to find another way. 

As for the homework issues, Peter was helpful. He was so smart without even trying. Some days she couldn’t believe how modest he was about it. If anyone deserved the Athena Award one day, it was him. _Not freaking Penelope Van Houtten._

During PE, Laura could feel cold from the icy looks Penelope gave off across the basketball court. Despite Laura’s misgivings; Penelope was popular, well liked, on every committee she could think of, and her fashion sense made any girl-and guy- green with envy. It didn’t make her an easy person to hate, but Laura had seen a side of her others didn’t. She stuck to that gut feeling there was something off about Little Ms. Popular.

“You look happy today,” Riley remarked, joining her in the kitchen.

“Really?" If she looked happy she didn’t quite notice it on the inside— but life at MidTown had gotten a thousand times easier as the weeks wore on.

“You do, how was hanging out at your friend’s place? His name’s Peter, yeah?”

“Yeah. It was nice, his aunt is cool.”

Riley tapped her shoulder with her mug. "You have to invite him over sometime, I’d love to give him the whole, ‘break my kid’s heart, I’ll break your bones talk.’”

Laura scoffed in annoyance and tilted her head back; “ugh guys and girls can be friends, you know."

“I _know_, I’m just messing,” teased Riley, laughing. She leaned in and kissed her on the cheek, “have fun at school kiddo.”

...

She didn’t see Peter until lunchtime, and when she did, lo and behold he was talking to Penelope at their regular lunch table. Laura watched him laugh at something Penelope said as she acted it out with her arms, he looked like he was enjoying the attention.

_Must be fun. _She rolled her eyes, salty. _She must be absolutely hilarious, huh, Peter._

Laura approached the table with her tray. “Hi,” she greeted, forcing a smile.

“Hiii Laura, what’s up?” Penelope replied sweetly. Between the two of them, Penelope was a million times more skilled at pretending she as pleased to see her.

“Nothing much." She sat down next to Peter and showed her wrist to Penelope. “Still keeping my watch, FYI.” Her voice was friendly and polite; no one would have suspected any animosity behind the exchange.

Peter frowned at her; “your watch? What does-”

Penelope chuckled, musical and charming. “I heard you joined the track and field team, that’s amazing,” she said, avoiding the topic all together, unfazed by it. 

“I was at tryouts yesterday with Coach Harries. I made the team.”

“Ay, that’s awesome!” Peter lifted his hand up and they high-fived. Penelope was the captain of the track team though, and there was nothing she could do about that.

“I look forward to seeing you at our first meet next Saturday,” said Penelope with a grin, tossing a strand of her shiny hair over the shoulder, treating them to a whiff of her expensive perfume. “We have a team breakfast every morning beforehand; you should come, it’s at By Chloe.”

“Isn’t that an exclusive vegan place in Manhattan?” Asked Peter. “It’s all over Instagram.”

“Yup, but I take care of all the expenses, you don’t have to worry about a thing,” she flattened her palm over her chest, a picture of wholesome generosity. “I mean we could go somewhere else but I want something special for my teammates for the first meet of the year. I booked the whole restaurant two months ago. You have to try to the pancakes, Laura, I could eat them for the rest of my life.”

Peter eyes were big circles of admiration. “That’s _so_ nice, Penelope, you’re the kind of captain every team should have.” 

Penelope’s annoyingly adorable laugh rang through the air, she smacked Peter fondly on the shoulder. “Aww, you’re so sweet."

_This makes me want gag. _

“Yeah, sounds great, can’t wait for vegan pancakes.” She also couldn't wait for this exchange to end so she could eat with Peter in peace.

“Perfect. See you there."

“See you,” Peter waved bye, his cheek came to rest on his fist, a longing gaze aimed after her.

Laura rolled her eyes; “do you need a mop or something, Peter? For your drool?”

“Huh?” He snapped out of it. “Do you have a problem with Penelope, or something?”

“She was weird to me on the first day of school, a little rude, she demanded that I give her my watch.”

Peter gestured at her wrist. “It’s a nice watch.”

“Yeah it was my mum’s.” She felt uncomfortable around the topic. They tended to lean away from discussing the Blip unless completely necessary, they both lost a lot and they hadn’t reached that level of closeness yet;

“That’s not the point, people don’t just ask for those things, the _way_ she said it—I know the type,” Laura told him. “Maybe bullies here look like Flash Thompson-”

Peter’s face turned a little sour at the mention of his No. 1 Tormentors name; 

“-But bullies at my old schools were like her. Obviously none of them wore 400 hundred-dollar Gucci belts, and they didn’t _pretend_ to be nice to everyone when they actually weren't. She has two different sides, Peter, you just haven’t seen the ugly one.”

“Is there one?” He muttered wistfully, staring at Penelope with a rosy look on his face.

She stamped at her mashed potatoes, _boys are so dumb_. She lifted the fork to her mouth when a student leapt onto a table in the middle of the cafeteria, scattering lunch trays everywhere;

“GUYS, _GUYS_!” He hollered, waving his phone up in the air; “They’re back! The aliens are back!”

The entire cafeteria erupted with panic and chatter louder than before. Peter snapped out of his in-love-with-Penelope-funk.

“Check Twitter!” They heard someone call out.

“It’s all over!”

“What do we do? What do we _do_?!” Someone cried, gathering her things and dashing for the exit like it was the apocalypse all over again.

In this day and age, it could be.

Feeling tight in her chest, Laura whipped out her phone.

“Oh my God,” she gasped and shoved her phone at Peter;

“Peter, look—!”

His eyes went round. _“Oh shit.”_

They watched together as giant stone monster wrecked havoc on a street in Brooklyn turning the ground beneath it’s feet to flaming molten lava, tossing cars around like they were toys. It looked nothing like the aliens from the Battle of New York. The incident was happening in one spot as far as they knew. But if it wasn’t stopped this could end up being far worse than the battle, especially if more of them came. It could melt down the entire street, the entire city with their lava.

Peter took his phone out too and she watched him scroll through a complex looking app with shifting numbers and algorithms she didn’t understand;

“What app is that? It looks—”

“Nothing,” he blurted hastily, stuffing his phone away, “—something I made, to get the news.”

He was terrible at lying too, worse than she was.

He stood and grabbed his backpack, his hands shivering as he dumped his books in; “I-uh, I got to go!”

“Where?” She stared at him worriedly. “We should stay at school until we know what’s going on, you shouldn’t—”

“I can’t, I left my Trig homework at home—!”

She gapped at him. “Uh, _priorities_, Peter! I don’t think your Trig homework-”

“I got go, see ya!” He sprinted out the cafeteria before she could get another word in.

* * *

**Peter**

“Come on Happy. Pick up, pick up!”

Peter’s call went straight to voicemail for fifth time. He let out a frustrated growl as he ran into his usual alley to put the Spider-suit on. He would have preferred the iron Spider-suit considering the lethality of the stone monster waiting for him in Brooklyn, but his old one was going to have to do for now.

With the suit on, he flung a web out and propelled himself into the air, swinging between the buildings frantically. He tried for Happy one more time;

“Happy, the aliens are back, in case you haven’t noticed! Mr. Stark and the Avengers need to get down here ASAP. I’m on my way!” He yelled into the receiver and hung up.

_It can’t be them, it’s not Thanos, this is something else, something else,_ Peter repeated in his head, praying it was true. He wasn’t ready to face aliens again, if ever.

The moment he landed he felt the heat from the lava radiating form the ground. The monster’s roar shook through the buildings across the entire neighbourhood. It looked more massive in person, _12 feet? More like 20! _

“Holy shit. You’re a big one!” Peter swung closer, collecting any citizens were who trapped in the traffic on top of their cars, and depositing them on rooftops where it was safer.

“The floor is lava, the floor is lava!” He muttered to himself, a childhood game turned deadly.

“Alright, let’s wrap this up,” he clapped his hands, once he’d gotten as many people as he could to safety. The monster let out another roar as Peter circled it, shooting out webs trying to pin it down but it kept ripping through his webbing with the veins of lava from it’s stony body.

“I don’t wanna be late for 4th period!”

It struck the pool of lava with it’s fists and from the fires emerged smaller, 6 feet tall stone versions of it, first one then two, and that multiplied to ten. He stuck two of them together, and used that trick for the next four but they were fast and too many of them. As Peter swung over, they got into each other’s shoulder, forming a tower. The topmost one latched onto his feet dragging him down, Peter cried out, kicking at it;

“Oh shit! Oh shit! Get off me!”

* * *

**Laura**

“This is stupid. This is so stupid,” she muttered to herself as she watched Spider-Man fling a mini-stone creature off his legs. At that moment another one hopped onto his back and he struggled to fight it off.

She was still wearing the clothes she wore to school. _Not much of a hero costume_. Laura pulled her back up half-mask over her lower face and jumped down between fire escapes to reach the fray. She landed onto a van hood; the van below was catching fire, disintegrating at the lava.

“Hey!” She shouted at a kid on a pavement not too far from her. The lava was slow moving but it wouldn’t take long for it to reach the kid. The little moron was filming the entire thing on Instagram. Laura hopped from one car to van to truck to reach her;

“What the hell kid? Are you asking for a death wish?”

She glanced over her shoulder, Spider-Man had managed to fight off the minions and get to the stone monster. But as he did; it caught him and flung him aside right through a window. _Oh we’re fucked no aren’t we?_

Laura got onto the pavement and yanked on the kid’s arm.

“Hey! Let go of me!” She screeched.

Laura pushed the kid into the direction of a nearby shop. At that moment, there was a shiver on unease over her left shoulder. A van door came straight for them.

Acting on pure instinct, she lifted her arms over her head into an X and slashed across. Her claws impaled into the metal and sliced the door; it laid in two pieces on either side of her.

She breathed in rapidly, the spike of adrenaline coursing through her veins. She turned to the kid whose jaw hung wide open.

“What are you standing there for?” She shouted at her. _“Get in! _Go to the roof!”

She hurried the kid into the shop and then dashed in the direction of the danger.

“Everyone, get back! Go this way!” She yelled out at everyone passing her, moving her arms, directing people behind her to the safe area.

_What are you doing, Laura? What are you doing?_

But she fought anyway.

A feral cry ripped through her as she unleashed her lethal side; impaling her claws into the stone-minions and decapitating them, throwing them against one another until they smashed into heaps of charcoal. They were easy to handle but their creator was going to be difficult.

The stone-monster reared its head to Laura, noticing her, as she was fast approaching it. The longer it wasn’t dealt with the more the lava would continue to be formed and the more it would spill through the city, destroying evening in it’s path instead of hardening like it should.

The monster picked up a car beside it, the meal hood of it melting beneath its touch. With a deep-bellied monster cry that made the hairs on her arms stand; it chucked the car at her.

Laura jumped onto a car trunk and took off, her feet planted onto the top of the flying car. She used it to spring off, sailing directly for the monster.

She landed on it’s back her claws driving into it’s neck, deep into a crevice of stone. She drove them in, again and again, breaking off the stones bit by bit. It was made of tougher stuff than it’s minions and she had to dig in with all her might to make a dent in it. The monster screamed in rage, and it reverberated through every bone in Laura’s body. It’s giant claws, reached back for her. The size of them scared her straight.

She tried to jump off until she realised her left claw was stuck. Laura planted her shoes on its shoulders, she shrieked in terror trying to yank it out.

_Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck—_

The second she managed to free herself, the monster’s stone hand clamped over her torso and tossed her. Laura tumbled through the air, screaming as a brick wall came fast for her. In time, her claws shoved into the building façade, and she hung on before she fell into the lava pool that spat flames at her.

Her back and side stung, hot and tender, she could smell smoke and her burning blood from the wounds.

She hurried to the roof, catching her breath. Laura lifted her shirt; the skin was burned off revealing pink-red muscle and sinews. Fortunately for her, new skin crept and crawled over. It was like watching paper burning, but in reverse, until it healed again.

Laura racked her brain for a way to beat it as she climbed down to a patch of cooled lava that had turned to rock. A stray stone minion came for her, screeching, it’s throat open wide until she could see the bright orange fire burning from inside its gut. She jumped over it, claws sinking into its chest. Laura hurled it across the road. It squawked and shattered into two on impact.

“Hey, new girl!” Spider-Man swung down to meet her on their little island of safety. He cleaned tiny shards off of glass of his arms.

“Water, water will work,” she told him and he nodded in agreement, there wasn’t time for small-talk right now. “There,” she pointed at a fire hydrant a hundred meters down, in a spot the lava hadn’t reached yet. “Get it to follow you there and I’ll do the rest.”

“Sounds like a plan!” He shot a web up to fly adjacent to the stone monster while she ducked beneath its lumbering arms, thick as logs. She dashed for the fire hydrant, leaping on trashcans, vans, patches of cooled rock, avoiding the fiery ground as much as possible.

When she got to the fire hydrant, Laura stabbed her claws through it one hand at a time and twisted across, bending and bending the metal until it broke with a satisfying pop. A geyser of water burst forth, Laura waved her arms to signal Spider-Man.

“This way, freak!” He called. Spider-Man swung around it, pestering it, and it slugged in the direction they wanted it to. He aimed a flurry of thick webs for its face to block its sight. The molten lava eyes melted the webbing quickly, but it was in position now;

Laura bent the hydrant down and backwards sending the geyser of water right for its chest and head. It roared out, enraged, choking on the water. It’s lava started to harden, coalescing into stone, blowing smoke. While it was wet, Spider-Man shot Taser webs at it, sending shockwaves of electricity that brought it to its knees.

It still swung its arms about, not giving up. Laura took off, using the momentum of her jump to punch its boulder-face. She propped herself on it’s chest. It roared even louder, deafeningly, as she clawed at it.

Then as she struck it one more time; a piece of stone broke off. Laura saw a face beneath, hidden by the dark stones—

Her fist stopped mid air, her body freezing, when she recognized those scared green eyes.

“Madeline?” She mumbled in terror, her blood going cold.

As Spider-Man aimed another Taser web, she cut through it before it could stick.

He fell to the ground, but landed deftly, calling out to her; "Why did you do that?!”

At that moment the water from the fire-hydrant sputtered and stopped. With no taser-webs either, Laura watched in horror as the stone re-grew over Madeline’s face and the eyes turned to red-hot flames again. It’s snarl thundered across the street and Laura winced, covering her ears. It snatched her by the neck and threw her fifty meters away, crashing through a shop window.

Laura got to her hands and knees in bed of glass, clutching her head, her ears ringing. She got to her feet as fast as she could and stumbled out of the shop.

When she emerged she nearly lost her foot almost stepping into a pool of lava. The monster sunk deeper into the center of it twenty feet away. Spider-Man clung to the side of building to avoid getting melted.

The monster disappeared into the pool of lava with one last beastly cry. Once it did, the lava slowly but surely, started to cool off and harden, forming a crust, smoke coming of its top. The street was quieter in the aftermath, citizens sneaking out of their hiding spots, peeking at the destruction from the rooftops they stood on, many of them had their phones out, filming the entire fight.

Laura spun around, covering her eyes from the sun; “where did she go?”

Spider-Man came up to her. “I can’t get it on any of my radars,” he told her swiping through his sophisticated watch and a hologram map of New York. Suddenly, an alarm clock popped up and the white mask eyes widened.

“Ah crap,” he closed the map; “I’ll talk to you later.” He shot a web and swung away.

“What, why?” She demanded. They just survived a random onslaught from a stone-monster that Laura swore on her life was hiding the body of a missing teenage girl inside of it; _and he has to leave?_

“Shouldn’t we talk about this _now_?”

“I’m late!” He shouted down to her, his voice getting further and further away. “Meet me on top of that building at 9pm tonight!” He aimed his arm somewhere to his left.

Laura checked her watch, _well, that makes two of us, Spider-Man. _

* * *

**Peter**

Unsurprisingly, both of them were late for History. They met at a halfway point in the hall, Peter skidding to a halt in front of her.

“Oh, hey,” he hoped he didn’t look too sweaty or suspicious. She’d fought the stone monster in the same clothes she came in today, minus the mask. The entire time they were fighting the beast, he wanted to ask her if she was okay, if she was hurt, but at the risk of giving his identity away. He was a little shaken up, battling something that bizarre after almost a year of relatively normal non-supernatural-non-alien level crime. Laura, on the hand, looked like she’d seen a ghost.

“Are you alright?” He asked her.

“Laura! Peter!” Mrs. Rowan admonished them as she stepped out of the class before they could try to sneak in. The look she gave them was just almost as scary as that stone monster’s.

“Haven’t you collected enough late demerits, Mr Parker?”

“I-I can explain today.”

“Hmph,” she harrumphed. “I wonder what it’ll be today; sick dog, sick aunt, plant died?”

“‘Plant died?’” Laura mouthed at him from the side, stifling her laughter like her life depended on it, but she wasn’t spared from Mrs. Rowan’s wrath;

“And _you_, Ms Kinney. Can you explain your outfit choice?”

Laura peered down at her t-shirt; her hoodie doing a bad job at covering what remained of her cropped shirt after it was burnt off in the fight. The edge of her bra peeked out and Peter lifted his eyes away from it.

“Uh...”

“Exposing your midriff is a violation of school dress code. I don’t enjoy having this conversation, and you don’t enjoy being told off for it,” said Mrs. Rowan, austerely. “But those are the rules, and you must abide by them, as does every other student at MidTown.” Laura didn’t have a chance to explain herself when their teacher aimed her sharp gaze at him again. “It’s nice to see you’re making new friends, Mr. Parker. Both of you; principal’s office after class, it’ll be a wonderful bonding experience, won’t it? Take your seats, we’re on Chapter 5.”

...

**Peter **

The stone-monster incident was all over the news and the authorities informed the public they were monitoring the situation. The Avengers were disbanded and Peter didn’t really know who’s ‘authority’ it was anymore to deal with this sort of thing. In addition to that; Youtube was blowing up with videos of Spider-Man and the new mystery hero defending New Yorkers from the stone minions and carrying them to safety. That got the attention of Happy who appeared to be vacationing somewhere with palm trees and pink sands, when he returned his voicemails with a video call.

"Happy, are you wearing a floral shirt, are you growing out your beard?"

_"That's not important kid. Anyway good job Pete,"_ he replied, avoiding the questions._ "Tony wants you to take the lead on this and carry on with it."_

“Me? But I have no idea what I’m doing!”

_“You do, Peter, I know you do. Oh, my coconut shake is here, gotta go-!” _

“Happy, wait!”

Peter sighed wearily as the line cut. _Tony really retired, didn’t he? _He hadn't made an appearance as Iron-Man since the Blip. What remained of the Avengers was scattered, and half of the heroes they relied on before were dead in the Blip.

_I guess the only person I have to fall back on is me. _

As 9pm rolled around, he leapt up to the meet-up spot with Laura. Peter walked along the roof, turning right and left, checking his watch. He was early, it was five minutes to 9, there was still time for—

He gasped and lurched back when she appeared a few inches from his face. She hung upside down by her foot talons from a roof gutter.

“Spider-Man,” her brown eyes narrowed at him above her mask.

“Oh—hey,” he replied, his heart still racing. 

_How did she manage to sneak up on me like that? _

“Looking for me?”

“Yup,” he nodded. Laura flipped upright onto the ground and pivoted on her heel to him. She pushed down her black hood to reveal her black hair that she’d tied into a ponytail. Her outfit was basically what his was when he first started out; except all black, with combat boots that could accommodate her talons.

“I’m here—what’s up?”

Peter cleared his throat, attempting to sound older than he actually was. “I wanted to propose a team-up.”

“A team-up?” She repeated dubiously, folding her arms.

“Yeah,” he replied, in his normal Peter-voice and cleared his throat again, deepening it; “yes indeed—you’ve got cool swords coming out of your hands, I have my spider-powers. I think we could work together, it seems like we’re fighting the same people,” he said, talking animatedly with his hands, a very Peter-esque thing to do but he hoped he wasn’t giving everything away. She still regarded him warily.

“What do you think?” He asked. “I mean—if you don’t want to, it’s fine, but we probably should, to avoid any miscommunication. And if you’ve seen Youtube, it’s obvious we can work together pretty well, if we put our minds together imagine—”

“Fine.”

“Fine?” He echoed, astonished at how easy that was; “You-You want to work together?”

“Yeah, sure,” she shrugged.

His excitement got the better of him, like it always did.

“Yes!” He pumped his fist through the air and spun away from her. “This so awesome, first team-up of neighborhood superheroes, ah man this is going to be great—”

“Hey! Hello? We’re not done yet, how are we supposed to contact each other?”

“Oh, right, right,” he remembered her, “forgot about that,” he chuckled sheepishly and handed a burner phone to her; “here.”

“Thanks,” she took it from him and tucked it in her pocket, she moved to more serious business; “so, that thing we fought.”

“I don’t know what it was.”

“It was girl.” 

“A girl?” He stopped short, frowning at her. _This is bad news. _

That disheartened look she had on throughout all of History returned. It had nothing to do with Mrs. Rowan sending them to the principal’s office.

“I caught a glimpse of a her face when I punched it. I recognized her.”

“That’s why you cut my Taser webs,” he concluded, as it started to become clearer. “Who is she?”

“Someone who was missing.”

“Missing since when?”

“Since the Blip.”

Peter blinked at her uncertainly and shook his head, it wasn’t right, it couldn’t be, but he knew he had heard her correctly. “Hold on a sec, what are you trying to say?”

She let out a long breathe, swallowing. “I’m saying she came back.”

“No. No, that’s not right,” he shook his head adamantly denying it. He knew what was what, and it was impossible for anyone to come back. _1 in a 42 million chance_. His mind kept flashing to the battle on Titan and Dr. Strange’s ominous words.

“I spoke to her mum, who’s been looking for her for since the Blip,” said Laura cutting through his dark memories. “There are holes in her story but she was right; she did come back. She wasn’t Blipped, she was in New York this whole time; at least I think so. Besides, no one _actually_ understands what happened to everyone.”

“I do, okay?” He said, crossly, stabbing at his own chest; “I know.”

“How?”

“Because I was there,” he bit out through gritted teeth. “When we fought him; Thanos, you don’t understand what happened—” Peter stopped himself. She didn’t ask him get angry with her for no reason, she was asking logical, reasonable questions.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to get mad,” he took a deep breath to collect his scattered emotions. “Listen; they’re never coming back, he made sure of that. You heard what the Avenger's said. Everyone’s gone."

"The Avengers fell apart. They're also not doing anything to fix the problems the Blip left behind, including this," she said, sharply. "No offense, I know they're your buddies, but it's true."

"Yeah. Well. I don't know, you're probably right." He honestly had no defense to give, as far as he knew what remained of them were trying to figure out a way to reverse what Thanos did. Mr. Stark made it clear that he wanted Peter to stay away from that business and focus on school. He agreed that was for the best. 

"So, whatever that girl was—”

“Madeline,” Laura cut in with a resolute stare at him. “Her _name_ is Madeline and she’s a 19 year old girl, a kid like—like any other kid,” she told him heatedly, her fists clenching at her sides.

“The reason Madeline was missing isn’t because of the Blip,” Peter told her, even for his own peace of mind. He didn’t want to get his hopes up. “If she’s back now it’s because of something else-"

“Like _what_? Do you _know_?” She demanded. “Do the Avengers have any idea what the hell is going on? What could have turned her into..._that_?”

He held his hands up to her to calm the situation, they just needed to be patient, and God knows he had trouble in that area too. “We’ll figure it out, as a team. We can do this,” he said, measuredly. “No more kids hurt getting on our watch.”

“Alright,” she nodded, an anxious twist to the corner of her mouth. “I just hope she’s okay, wherever she is.”


	5. Chapter 5

The doctor nervously fixed his glasses as he finished off the last bit of his status report; “...in conclusion X-24 escaped.”

His boss, a man—not of their world, and who'd seen far advanced technology than they ever had— stood on the balcony with him. The doctor basked in his ambiance, but was scared for his life at the punishment he would get for his failure. They were overlooking the other lab assistants and workers below them in the test lab.

“You were lucky the media outlets soaked up the fake news I gave and sold the story as an alien attack,” said the boss, coldly. 

“I apologize, Sir.”

“Apologies are useless to me,” he said, his dark green eyes glaring at him like two bright emeralds. “Fire whoever was on security, and make sure to cut their severance, but not enough they’d want to talk.”

“Of course,” he nodded adamantly. “Once Spider-Man conveniently electrocuted X-24 for us, it re-calibrated the tracking device the subject disabled during its escape, allowing us to control it remotely to return to base.”

“The wreckage it caused—I’ve never seen anything like it,” they approached the body bag X-24 was being zipped up in. “Unfortunately its heart couldn’t survive. Spider-Man’s fault too, I suppose. A pity; the world will never see anything like her ever again.”

The boss touched the young girl’s cold cheek. Less than 24 hours ago, his skin would have melted at the touch, when she turned to stone, growing to the size of a 20 foot beast, spewing lava.

“The child was defective; with that pacemaker in her abdomen,” explained profusely trying to make up for his errors. “There’s nothing we could do but keep the subject in her mutated state so she would survive, and even then—”

“Tell me you have other subjects,” he cut over him, fixing a crease in his suit.

“Coming in later tonight, sir.”

“And this X-23. Have you located her?”

“Yes we have, but we haven’t brought her in,” he slid along the pictures on his tablet to the profile of Laura Kinney. “Her powers are merely rapid healing, not much use to us. We already have enough blood samples if we ever decided to use them for another project, perhaps for cancer research—”

“We are experiencing changes on this planet far beyond mere _human_ ailments. ‘Cancer_,’_ is that really the top of your list of priorities, doctor?” Scoffed the boss, “I need you to keep an eye on her,” he said, as an assistant zipped up Madeline’s face. They were going to transport her body to the dumping site with the others.

“Other powers could manifest and we need to know when they do,” he said firmly, and the doctor made a note of it. “I’ve seen specimens like her in my world; and the man she came from was more dangerous to this Earth than X-24 could ever have been.”

The doctor bowed his head, “of course Sir, I will executed these orders immediately.”

* * *

**Peter **

As Peter’s phone dinged, he peered up to make sure Mr. Carmel was still across the room telling Flash off for causing his plant to die.

He lifted his phone screen, his notifications going off about a party at Penelope Van Houtten’s. A buzz of excitement rushed through him and he leaned over to Laura. She was focused on the baby leaves on their plant for their transpiration experiment.

“There’s a party at Penelope’s this Friday, let’s go!"

“No.”

He blinked at her quick reply, stunned. “_No_? Why no? Come on, we have to go!”

“You know I don’t like her.”

“You don’t have to talk to her. It’s a party there’s a lot of people there besides Penelope.”

Laura told him that Penelope had been uncharacteristically rude to her on the first day of school. He believed her of course, but some people just had bad days didn’t they? He had his fair share of anger outbursts too, especially after the Blip. All Peter knew was that Penelope lost her mother because of Thanos, and she had always been harmless since she got to MidTown. In some ways she reminded him of Liz.

Laura shrugged. “I don’t know, Peter.”

“Is it your goal not to have fun this year?” He moaned.

“That’s not it, I’m busy. Could you come and check Schubert’s water level?” She asked, referring to the name she had chosen for their plant, which she was determined to grow until it was large enough to be potted one day.

If Laura wasn’t busy with schoolwork, she was busy with investigating the lava stone-monster/Madeline Montega with Spider-Man. Since Peter knew they were supposed to meet up later tonight, he was sure she was definitely lying about being too busy for a party.

“Come on, junior year’s been rough so far, we deserve to cut loose,” he said, writing down the water level in the worksheet. “Plus, I’ve never been to a party like the one’s Penelope throws, okay? This is a big deal.” He meant it with all seriousness.

She raised an eyebrow at him; “you mean...a party with booze?”

His eyes shifted between them and the other students nearby. “Yeah.”

“And drugs?”

“Er—”

“And sex?” She smirked at him.

“What? No.” Peter’s face went red, “I mean not-not exactly, umm,” he scratched the back of his neck, sitting down. “There won’t be any parental supervision whatsoever so—”

“Are trying to get with Penelope?”

“No!” Peter burst out, causing several people on their bench to turn to them. He sucked in his teeth his head hot with embarrassment. Laura had a tendency to talk loudly _and_ without a filter. He didn’t need their entire AP Bio class learning he was still a virgin. He definitely didn’t want Flash Thompson to use that as arsenal to bully him.

He tried to brush it off; “no, no, no—I don’t like her that way, okay.” He hoped she’d follow his lowered voice and keep it down this time.

She picked up the clippers to take a sample of their plant. “Could you get any redder? This isn’t the 80’s Peter.”

Peter had only ever been comfortable having the drinking, sex, and drugs conversations with Ned. Then again, they were always too dorky and unpopular to ever be invited to these things. Then came Laura, this girl he only met a month ago, and she was so unlike his best friend—with her experiences, attitude—it puzzled him how she ever thought he was cool enough to hang out with.

“I just want to have fun, okay?” He said, sighing dejectedly. “Is it too much to ask?”

“I thought your idea of fun would be staying home to rearrange your Star Wars action figures?”

He gave her a deadpan look.

Laura put down the clippers and looked at him sympathetically, “_fine,” _she said, stifling a laugh. “We’ll go to the party.”

He clapped his hands, pumped for it, but at the same time extremely nervous. _How am I supposed to act? What do I talk about to people? _It was going to be so far out of his comfort zone, but perhaps that was a good thing, _going to an unsupervised party is part of growing up right?_ _Moving on? ‘Rebellious teenage phase,’ as Mr. Stark put it._

“Alright everyone, time’s up, pass me your hypothesis & calculations, and you can submit the conclusions tomorrow,” Mr Carmel strolled along the aisle collecting their sheets.

“Looking forward to seeing what you do for the science fair,” said Mr. Carmel, wagging a finger at them when he got to their bench. “You and Ned were always so close to winning the past two years.”

“Thanks Mr. Carmel."

Laura was quiet for a long moment, not looking at him, finger-brushing down absentmindedly on one of Schubert’s leaves.

“Ned was your best friend, right?” She asked. 

“Yeah,” Peter replied, his heart faltering a little to mention him. Laura never spoke about her mum either. “We used to enter the science fair together every year.”

“Huh, that’s pretty cool,” she replied slowly, lifting her eyes to him, sliding the worksheet over, before excusing herself to the bathroom. Peter watched her leave the lab, wondering if he’d done something wrong.

...

In-between Biology and AP Math, Peter stopped by his locker. He wasn’t paying much attention to anything besides finding his History notebook when a fist slammed into the locker next to him, making him jolt up.

Peter spun about; of course it has to be Flash.

“Heard you’re going to Penelope’s party,” hollered Flash strolling past him, “time to bring back Penis Parker, eh?” He jeered, followed by an obnoxious laugh. Other students in the hall started to chuckle along with him.

Peter spun back to the dimness of his locker. Every time he thought he could stand up to Flash, he stayed quiet instead, taking it like a beating. Once, when he tried to defend himself in freshman year, Flash just came up with another taunt and then got other people in on it too. He’d gotten used to being the butt of a joke.

_Maybe it’s supposed to be funny. _Although Peter was never laughing.

He’d known Flash since middle school, _and nothing ever changes. _He felt especially more vulnerable now that Ned was gone, but that didn’t stop Flash either.

“Are you okay?”

He turned to the sound of Laura’s voice beside him, her forehead creased with concern, she seemed okay now.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said rigidly, grabbing his notebook and Laura didn’t press on it on the walk to class.

...

After school Peter walked Laura to the subway station she took to get home, he was going to head off to patrol afterwards but needed to jot down a to-do list beforehand;

_Pick up eggs and blueberries _

_Buy socks _

_Take down the Irish Mafia _

_Remind May about mail_

“That’s the second time I’ve seen you walk and write at the same time,” said Laura, frowning at him disapprovingly. “How does someone even accomplish that without falling flat on their face?”

“I’m pretty light on my feet,” he said, hopping onto a bench, while still having eyes on his notepad. “Quick reflexes,” he hopped off the bench gracefully.

Laura just shook her head at him being a show off. “If that’s the case, then why are you so shitty at PE?”

Peter tucked his notepad away. “Maybe I’m just holding back so you have your time to shine.”

She rolled her eyes as he laughed. She was excelling in PE and the track team a more than he ever did, but stayed modest about it. Although Peter was 90% sure her secret powers that no one knew about must contribute to her speed, but he was not in the place to call her out on it, since he wasn't meant to know she was moonlighting as a clawed-vigilante. 

“You know, I honestly cannot believe you’ve never been to an actual party,” she said. “That’s something we _need_ to discuss Peter Parker.”

He shrugged, in the beginning it wasn’t a big deal him, but he supposed when the world nearly ended last year, his time in high school-being young, on the cusp of life; felt fleeting.

_Perhaps this is how I make the most of it. _

“Not sure if you heard; I’m not popular.”

“I’ve never been popular either, but no one actually cares if you’re invited or not, you just show up, unless of course you’re Penelope Van Houtten,” she added, salty.

“Yeah. Penelope,” he mused, sighing thoughtfully, thinking about how nice she smelt when she said hi to him in the hallway. He shook the wishful thoughts out of his head, it was just a little crush; it was never going to happen.

“Do you want half?” Laura offered the other half of her peanut butter and jelly sandwich to him. He hadn’t picked up something to eat before patrol yet;

“Don’t mind if I do,” he said, taking it off her and digging into it. “Wow. Gourmet,” he said with a mouthful of PB&J.

That made her laugh. As they walked and munched on the sandwiches, Laura scrolled through her phone to show him a funny video. Just as they neared the stairs leading underground, Peter sensed someone watching them. Sure enough, a girl stepped in their path, Laura nearly crashed into her.

“Laura.”

They stopped. Peter didn’t know who she was, but Laura definitely did when the color drained from her face.

“K-Kimiko,” she stuttered, since the day he met her, he’d never heard her so unconfident. “I -hi, it’s -it’s been a while.”

“Yeah it has,” her eyes narrowed, crossing her arms over her chest. “I can’t imagine why.”

Laura swallowed nervously and gestured to him. “Uh, this is Peter, a friend from school.”

He waved, “hey, how’s it—”

“Hi,” Kimiko gave him an uninterested glance, and then returned her focus to Laura; “fancy new school huh? Midtown Tech.”

“Not-not really,” she stuffed hands into her pockets, a ball of nerves. “So, how are you-?”

“I still can’t close my hand into a fist,” Kimiko showed them her right hand, it was mottled with two huge scars across her palm and through her index finger where it had clearly been sliced down the middle like a banana. “I had to learn how to be left-hander, not to mention delay my finals because of what happened,” she said coldly, “It’s useless when I spar at the dojo, which is the most annoying part, but...I can’t complain, it could worse. I could have lost my whole arm, no thanks to you.”

Laura’s eyes started to flutter faster. “I’m sorry-I really am,” she said, remorsefully; “I-it was an accident, I didn’t mean to cut you or for you to go through-“

“I don’t understand it either,” Kimiko interrupted her; “but I know you didn’t mean to hurt me. The worse part is that you didn’t even bother to visit me at the hospital, or to check in on me at least. You just left the dojo and moved to a new school, and you never answered my calls or texts. Why would you do that?”

Laura struggled to find the words; “I was going through something and I just couldn’t deal with it, or bring you into it.”

“I thought we were friends,” Kimiko shot back, clearly hurt too. “I would have forgiven you for it if you tried. I know something was different about you back then.”

She was giving Laura an opening to tell her the truth. Laura bit her lip, contemplating it; her gaze flying between Peter and Kimiko. He stayed out of it.

“I can’t tell you. I’m sorry.”

“You know I thought coming up to you and confronting you about it would make me feel better, but it doesn’t,” she said, disappointed, face etched with hurt. “I just feel even more sorry for you that you’re still a coward and a shitty friend.”

_Jeez, even I feel the burn from that. _

Kimiko shouldered past them before Laura could get another word in. Yet she remained rooted in place not attempting to run after her to talk things through.

He didn’t realize it until now but Laura was on the verge of tears. His own throat felt tight too, not because he was upset but because he was worried he was going to say the wrong thing-something dumb and senseless- and make things worse.

“That was intense,” he began, blowing out his cheeks, “a little—a little harsh of her wasn’t it?”

_God, I am so bad at this. _

Laura sniffed, using her sweater sleeve to wipe her eyes; she stared at her shoes.

“I think I deserved it,” she muttered miserably.

“What happened at the dojo?” He asked carefully. It was obvious she still felt immense guilt over it.

“It was an accident, okay,” she replied stiffly. “I don’t really want to talk about it Peter.” She looked up at him, the walls coming up. He got the message loud and clear.

“Thanks for walking me to the station,” she said, fixing her backpack strap onto her other shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He nodded, keeping his mouth shut, hoping she knew he understood. He waved to her as she made for the subway stairs.

_See _you_ later tonight. _

* * *

**Laura **

She arrived early at her meet-up spot before Spider-Man. _Who knew that a year ago I would be _meeting _and _teaming _up with Spider-Man. _She had somehow maintained her cool throughout her entire conversation with him last night, despite wanting to squeal with excitement. Laura turned on the ground-conductivity device. It was a 4-foot long tube, used to measure underground volcanic activity. It was an outdated model but it did its job.

She may or may not have stolen it from the physics lab at school.

Laura turned on the infrared camera she attached to it. She could track Madeline like any other person with her sense of smell and hearing, but Madeline wasn’t a normal person, and Laura didn’t know how to track literal rock, if that was the form Madeline was in. _Is there a way for her to revert back to human form? Or is she stuck like that forever? _They weren’t going to find these answers until they found her.

Besides, she wasn’t going to let Spider-Man do all the logistics work. In her mind he was just tagging along. Riley always told her; _if you’re the primary detective, if you made it your duty to help that one person, it’s your responsibility to follow-through with that promise. _It was easier said than done of course, and her foster-mum definitely didn’t give her that anecdote so she could use it as a reason to sneak out and be a crime-fighting hero.

_But she doesn’t need to know that. _

Nonetheless; Laura felt a responsibility to Madeline Montega and her family, and she was going to do whatever she could to find her.

Spider-Man dropped down beside her with a cheerful hello, it didn’t alarm her this time. She considered the playing field even after he scared her the first night they met.

“Hey,” she straightened to stand over her device.

“What’s that?”

“A ground conductivity meter,” she told him, a little nervous to explain her hashed together homemade device when it was no match for the advance tech in his suit. Vaguely, she wondered what was the technology that made him stick to walls, maybe she could ask him later.

“Basically I attached an infra-red camera to it. I figured that the lava the monster—sorry; the lava Madeline created, was due to seismic activity, I decided to check the viscosity of the lava flow.”

Laura felt sheepish as she took out her note pad to show him the calculations and notes she made. Even so, her handwriting was only a mess she could understand. “There were no silicate compounds in it, and based on how fast it flowed from where it came from her to the surrounding streets, it moves pretty slow. The crust formed in about 10 minutes, so it’s insulating the upper layers—”

“From any lower ones, to stop them from cooling too,” he finished for her, catching onto to her theories.

“Exactly. There’s still residual heat in the ground that hasn’t cooled. We follow the pattern and it’ll take us straight to her.”

“That’s actually brilliant,” he crouched down, glancing between the device and her. “I didn’t think of that.”

Laura gulped as she felt the heat seep into her cheeks. “Thanks; that being said, she’s been to multiple areas in the city in the last 72 hours at least, and there’s a lot of overlap too.” She squatted next to him and fiddled with the infrared camera to bring up a map of New York. There were many layers of rainbows spread throughout with no definitive path to Madeline.

Spider-Man lifted his watch device and used it to scan the infrared camera’s data. “I think I can narrow it down by analyzing the heat signatures.” Laura tried not to geek out at how cool his gear was. A moment later, a red map to Madeline was traced out on the mini 4D hologram New York from his watch;

“There. Let’s go get her.”

* * *

**Peter **

Thoroughly impressed but trying to remain aloof about it; they used the readings they got from Laura’s volcanic activity scanner to move through the city. It felt weird to be leaping across rooftops, it was also slower than he would have liked. It was already weird enough not to talk to her, acknowledge her as his friend and pretend not to know a single thing about her while he was Spider-Man. _This is what sucks about secret identities. _

They stopped; Peter catching his breathe, he was not used to running this much, the web-swings covered more ground than his own legs ever could. Laura on the other hand, barely broke a sweat, her endurance was unmatchable.

She glanced at him over her shoulder; “are you okay?”

“Not used to running so much,” he coughed, holding onto his knees, winded. “I think we’ll swing,” he suggested approaching her and her eyes widened to the size of two pennies;

“_We?” _

“Yeah,” he said coolly, standing next to her on the edge of the roof, ten stories up. “We’ll get there faster.”

“Um,” she swallowed, still unconvinced. He didn’t really understand it, she could leapt the fifty feet between buildings with the possibility of falling to her death— but hanging onto him was somehow less safe?

“You promise you won’t drop me?”

He held his hand up in oath; “promise.”

“Okay, so how—”

Peter wrapped his arm around her waist and jumped. His wrist extended out, a web propelling them upwards through the open air. Laura screamed in his ear, but he could take it, her arms wrapped tighter around his neck as they soared adjacent to the windows of skyscrapers that rippled with streaks of moonlight and their murky reflections. They got to their destination in the nick of time. Peter tried to plant them neatly on the ground but Laura leapt out of his grasp onto the gravelly rooftop like he’d caught fire.

He landed near her and she whipped her head around to him. Peter had to take a step back, alarmed by the glare she shot at him;

“_Never, _I repeat, _never, _do that again!” She stabbed a finger at him.

He raised his palms up in surrender, “okay, okay! I promise!”

She pressed her lips together, fuming. He let her simmer in that, and strolled off a few feet to do his preliminary scans of the building; an old pharmaceutical lab that had been re-purchased and sold.

What he found wasn’t good;

“There’s no one in there,” he announced. Laura had been pacing back and forth along the length of the roof, her nostrils flaring as she tried to smell and hear what could be happening inside.

“Spider-Man, you said the trail ends here,” said Laura.

“It does.”

“We have to go in. I couldn’t pick up on anyone guarding the place either.”

“Before we go in, here you go,” he handed her a comm device to put in her ear. “In case we get separated, hopefully we won’t.”

She thanked him and put it in her ear. Laura went to a skylight and broke the lock with a slash of her claws. She hopped up, disappearing through it. Peter followed her. He used the rest of the map on Karen to navigate the halls until they got to a closed lab door on the basement level.

“It’s locked.” He connected his spider-drone to the surface of it. “I think I could get it open.” The drone scanned the interface as he tried to hack through it. 

“Crap, it’s not working,” he cursed under his breath as red bars crossed his hologram. _Ned could probably figure it out, _he thought forlornly.

Laura had been patiently waiting for him, as he tried (and failed) to work his hacking magic. “What do you mean it’s not working? Your fancy tech can’t open a door?”

“It has multiple sensors attached to it, the moment it opens it’ll set off an alarm through the security system and we’ll have company.”

“So what can we do?”

He re-calibrated the drone; “Karen’s working on it, but I’ll need a little more time.”

“Karen?”

“The AI in my suit.”

“Right,” cocking her head; “yeah that makes sense, I was wondering if you were actually crazy talking to your imaginary girlfriend.”

Peter flushed beneath his mask; “I mean I—”

Laura grunted and stabbed into the wall climbing over the awning.

“What are you doing?” He panicked. “If you touch it, it’ll set off—!”

“Disabling the pressure sensors.” She cored open the fuse box and sliced through a specific set of wires. Then she hopped down and unsheathed her other claw set. Laura cut a long vertical line down the 6-inch thick titanium with one clean slice. She tore it open through the center with the sheer strength of her back and shoulder muscles, tight and bulging.

_Okay, a lot faster than my plan, _he thought as he watched her, wide-eyed and fascinated.

“Come on.” They stepped through the opening she made and into the expansive laboratory. From the looks of it, it had been vacated recently, not run-down like the rest of the place.

“Seems like whoever was here left in a rush.”

“So does that mean she’s not here anymore?” Asked Laura.

“The heat signature stops here.” The trial was getting cold and Peter didn’t like it one bit. “There’s no more map to follow, Madeline has to be here.”

“We can snoop around, see if anything could direct us to where she is now.”

“Sounds good, keep an eye out,” said Peter, dying for a fight and to ultimately save Madeline, but it seemed it was just going to be reconnaissance tonight. The lab was dim, save for a few emergency lights high above, their bodies casting long shadows across the floors.

“Look,” Laura ushered him over to three cylindrical containment pods, each of them empty, the ground wet around them. The eeriness of this place was starting to catch up to him, it was the stuff of nightmares when he was a kid, staying up past his bedtime to watch B-rated horror flicks about mad scientists.

“What do you think they were keeping in these?” She asked, ill at ease.

“I doubt it was anything good.”

He jogged over to the computers, diffident to start going through it when he’d been unsuccessful at hacking through the doors in the first place. He let Karen start by accessing the mainframe. Most of the drive had been wiped but he tried his best to work backwards to see what had been on it before;

A stream of satellite images of Earth popped up, each one a deep azure blue with streaks of red and oranges fanning out across the globe, all originating from the same focus over Africa.

“Whoa.”

“What are you doing?” Laura went to him. “We’ll have better luck trying to figure out where she is by finding clues around us.”

“I’m trying to figure out this data, I mean these guys were scientists. They must have recorded their readings somehow, and of course it had to be on a computer. See;” he pointed to the screen. “They were tracking gamma radiation. Spiking from...” he stamped on the next key until he got to a more detailed map view of Africa.

“Wakanda.”

“Wakanda?” She repeated, eyebrows furrowing at the ten-foot screen. “Isn’t that where the battle was against the aliens? Where the Avengers lost?”

“Yeah,” he swallowed uncomfortably. _We lost on multiple fronts, _he knew that all too well.

She was running out of patience; “so what does this have to do with what happened to Madeline?”

He stopped typing and angled his head to her; “she went missing right after the Blip, right?”

“That’s right.”

“Maybe it’s what caused her to change, the gamma rays,” he speculated. “Like Bruce Banner.” Peter was a huge fan; he and Ned had extensively researched the experiment that made Banner the Hulk, purely for the fun of it. He wished he got to meet him in person.

“Sure, I get that;” she waved her hand at the screen, “but she didn’t turn big and green. She turned into lava and magma,_ kinda_ different.”

Peter thought about it a little longer. The radiation from the infinity stones was gamma; that was as much as they knew (or what he was permitted to know) about them. He deduced that the red streaks on the map were flares of the radiation across the Earth.

“Maybe it doesn’t work the same way for everyone,” he hypothesized, like this was Mr. Carmel’s Bio class all over again. “I mean do you know how you got your powers?”

“No, I just woke up with them,” she said, defensively. “I wasn’t exposed to any gamma radiation.”

Peter looked over her from head to toe as it started to become startlingly clearer. “But you _were_— the entire world was.” He gestured adamantly at the screens.

“I got these _months_ after the Blip,” she held her claws up to him, skeptical. “The radiation made half of living beings disappear, so those of us left behind have superpowers, now?”

“Not everyone,” he shook his head, the revelation of it building and building in his head and chest. “It _specifically_ changed your DNA, just like it changed Madeline’s.” He turned back to the computer, blowing up an algorithm. A lot of data started to pop up on the screen too fast for any normal person to comprehend but his eyes flitted through it swiftly.

“Look!” He threw his finger at the screen; “’activation complete on day 50 of trials,’ they kept Madeline here after the Blip, to experiment on her.”

Her eyes glimmered with hate and fear. “That’s so fucked up. Madeline was here this entire time for 11 months, and no one could find her. Her mum was right.”

He stuck in his spider-drone to the computer tower. “I’m going to download as much as I can to de-crypt later.”

Laura looked worriedly between what he was doing on the computers and the rest of the room. “Do we have time for that?”

“Just give me a second,” he mumbled, trying to focus on what he typed out on the keyboard.

“But—Spider-Man, how did they _know_, to kidnap her specifically?” Laura asked. “If she has special DNA or whatever? She went missing the day of the Blip, absolute perfect timing. Were they tracking her—?”

He was going to answer her question when another piece of data flared up, distracting him; “Whoa, check it. They sequenced her entire genome.”

“We shouldn’t stay here for too long,” she insisted. “I’m not getting a good vibe from it. Something happened here; I can feel it. Especially those containment pods—”

“The place is abandoned,” he replied. “We’ll be fine.”

Her claws unsheathed, like the sound of a machete slicing through the air. Laura stared off at the entrance.

“Something’s not right,” she whispered, apprehensively.

“How do you know?”

“Because if I concentrate, I can hear the shift in air currents in the room.”

“Really?” He turned to her, his mask eyes pieces getting larger. “That’s so cool—”

A fire alarm blared through the laboratory, startling both of them;

“What the hell is going on? A fire?!” Laura shrieked over the booming of the alarms, covering her ears. Red lights beamed intermittently from the ceilings.

Peter tapped frantically away on the keyboard, realizing he’d fucked up.

“Shit. Some failsafe in the computer activated the security breach protocol!”

“We have bigger problems, Spider-Man!”

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, a shiver went down his spine. He spun around and saw something from his nightmares;

A portal was forming in the center of the room; glowing, spinning and spinning with bright yellow thunderclouds. Droplets of water from puddles on the ground started to float, sucked towards it like a wind tunnel, Laura’s hair blowing up in its direction. She stared at it open-mouthed and frozen in shock.

Before he could act (to do what, exactly, he didn’t even know) Laura grabbed what fabric she could from his skin-tight Spider-suit and hauled him onto the walkway overhead.

A lance of lightening shot out from it, shattering the computer terminal they were just standing at. The portal grew to twenty feet across in diameter within seconds; a dark abyss in the center of it, dark as night. 

From the portal an amorphous black liquid spilled out, alive; stumbling into their world. It grew and grew. It had the remnants of what could be a face; three dark crevices of a pair of eyes and a mouth. From it’s back and trunk he saw human-body-like projections stretching out of it reaching out and disappearing, as if they were trapped in there.

It could have been a trick of the eye, but Peter wasn’t going to pretend like he had any clue what the hell he was seeing.

“What the _fuck _is that?” Yelled Laura.

Peter felt like he was losing his mind, but he couldn’t afford to do that right now. “I don’t know!” He straightened; “but whatever it is, we’re going to send it back where it came from!”

It shot out a geyser of black fluid their way. Peter aimed a web at Laura and yanked her to him, swinging both of them away as the balcony beneath their feet was blasted in two. 

* * *

**Laura **

She couldn’t believe she landed here; about to face yet _another _massive monster, that arrived through a freaking yellow storm cloud_. _The only reason she even started all of this was because she was bored. Bored of breaking up bar fights and chasing down snatch-thieves.

_I’m certainly not bored now. _

She didn’t tell Spider-Man off for carrying her through the air this time. They got a better view from where they were perched now;

“We need a plan Spider-Man!”

“Karen I need scans on whatever that thing is, ASAP!” He spoke into his watch piece; “we could try water again.”

“We don’t know how it’s going to respond!”

“We just need to push it back through the yellow portal.”

“_Portal?” _She shrieked, losing her levelheaded cool at that moment. _“_That’s a portal?! Portal to where?”

“It doesn’t matter right now! It’s not from Earth, and it’s not an alien life-form that the Avengers have encountered before!”

The creature clung to side of the wall and started to charge for them, moving faster than her eyes could follow. Laura leapt away from their perch and rolled onto the ground as it consumed the ledge they were on.

With a nightmarish growl, twenty black tentacle-like projections shot out from its body, each a hundred feet in length, pounding through beams and the ceiling. Laura covered her head as pebbles of concrete scattered over her.

“Time for you to go back to where you came from!” Spider-Man swung closer to it, weaving beneath and over the tentacles in a calculated sequence, and managed to get a couple of webs around its tentacles. Laura climbed up and met him, clinging to the wall with her talons. Spider-Man landed next to her and planted his feet, his body horizontal as he stuck to the wall. “Pull together!” He instructed, and at the count of three they yanked on the collection of webs with their combined strength, a vicious tug of war with this alien being to force it back to where it came from.

The monster aimed another tentacle at them. Laura had to let go, Spider-Man leaping away to dodge the attack.

Laura skidded on the ground, feeling helpless, as the monster started to go wild pounding and bursting through the support beams of the lab. She tucked and rolled to dodge the cast iron spandrels that fell from the rafters, her vision obscured by clouds of dust.

“The building’s going to collapse!” She yelled to Spider-Man over their comm. She slid along the wall and saw a storeroom marked with a toxic sign. She dashed in and found cartons of chemicals, many labeled with warning signs. She snatched a gallon of isopropyl alcohol and dashed back outside.

_Maybe fire will work. _

Laura hauled the gallon out, sliding beneath falling chunks of concrete, coughing from the debris. Spider-Man was flung through the air, trying to yank the creature back into the portal that was the brightest thing in the room at this point. Laura stabbed through the plastic of the isopropyl alcohol, the mind-numbing alcohol scent of it going straight to her brain.

“I need a boost!” She called to Spider-Man. He aimed a web for her and she latched onto it, the chemical leaking out around the ground and over the monster. She tossed the gallon at its open-roaring mouth whilst reaching out for her lighter.

Before she could light the fire, a black tendril unhooked and came for her, whacking into her stomach. She lost her grip on Spider-Man’s web and flew to the ground. Laura landed, the air knocked out of her, and much worse than that;

“_Laur—!”_

The roaring from the monster drowned out Spider-Man’s voice; but she swore she heard her name.

However, she was more preoccupied with the three rods impaled through her spine and collarbone.

Laura screamed at the sight, but tried not to let this unnerve her. For normal people; this was it; this was how they would die, but not Laura. The worst part of getting injured was always pulling whatever knife, bullet, or shard of glass that was stuck in her.

Healing powers was great, having to suffer the injuries that necessitated them; _not so great_.

Unable to do a thing as she struggled to free herself— it returned it’s attention back to Spider-Man.

Its black-oil-slick arm aimed a torrent of fluid at Spider-Man’s face, latching onto him like rubber, slamming him onto the ground; dragging him up and down again like it meant to crack his spine. Laura winced in pain for him. Then he disappeared in a sea of black ink, the monster’s booming cry reverberating through the walls.

She could only watch in horror as it proceeded to drown him.

Laura bit her lip, pulling the rod out of her collarbone, and then her back, flinging them aside. _He needs me. I need to end this. _

She flicked on her lighter and threw it to the ground. The tiny flame ignited the alcohol; the floor burst into flames, snaking around the monster. The inferno grew and grew tendrils of smoke and bright orange burning through the room. The monster let out a deep bellow rearing backwards and falling through the portal that closed as soon as it gobbled the creature back up.

She fell to her knees besides Spider-Man, shoving him out of the way as a steel beam made a dent on the floor next to them. She smacked Spider-Man on the cheek but he didn’t respond, passed out cold. She bent her ear closer to his mouth and he was still breathing, knocked out from the hits he took.

She dragged him to his feet, wrapping an arm across her shoulders and ran out of the burning, falling, laboratory as fast as she could. Laura ran and ran, not knowing where the hell she was going, a clumsy mess as she stumbled onto the dirt lot outside. She didn’t stop. She kept running and running, as fast as she could take Spider-Man with her.

She shoved her claws into next closest building and with one hand, propelled herself bit by bit to a fire escape. Laura settled Spider-Man onto the slim balcony. She squatted down, wiping sweat and soot from her forehead, trying to decide what to do next. There was no way she was going to stick around here waiting for another portal to open, for an alien to devour them. She’d taken them pretty far, in the distance; the fire they started turned the hazy night sky into burnt amber. She could hear fire-truck ringing through the night on their way to the scene.

Laura went over to Spider-Man and unclipped the web shooter device from his wrist and pressed onto it. A web shot out into the night, some residue left on her hand.

“Ugh, sticky,” she griped, grossed out.

Laura peered around her, it didn’t seem like he was going to wake up anytime soon. All she had to do was shoot the web out to a building and swing on it. The tensile strength of it could hold both of them as she’d learnt from tonight; _seems easy enough. _

In hindsight, it wasn’t.

Laura clipped in onto her wrist and mimicked his hand gesture. The web spiraled out and latched onto the next building. She tugged on it to make sure it was secure. _Here goes nothing. _

Picking him up again, she stepped off the ledge, stifling a scream as she swung between the skyscrapers, the wind whipping her hair against her face. She lifted her legs up, as the next building came fast up to her.

A crash was imminent; _shit, shit, shit! _

Laura shot the web shooter blindly into the air and it latched onto something else, but she didn’t know where, or what _angle_ she’d aimed for. Turn’s out she’d aimed too low and with a dip that sent her tummy lurching into her throat—they dived into a downward spiral, Laura screaming at the top of her lungs as a brick wall rushed up to her.

They hit the wall with a force that could shatter her teeth. Her shoulder bloomed with pain and she tasted blood in her mouth. She gasped and pinned her right claws and both feet hooks deep into the brick before they could tumble down again. Spider-Man started to slip from her sweaty arm, she held him even tighter in her grasp. The last thing she wanted to do was _accidentally _drop him.

They were four stories from the ground; clear of any danger by now. _I’ll leave the web-shooting to Spidey from now on. _She skimmed down the walls. She bounced off nearer the bottom and the pair of them landed with a solid thud onto the dirt, a shaking jolt to her skull. 

Laura’s entire body ached; from her fingertips to her neck and back. She slowly stood, her legs dragging like lead. He was still completely out of it, but she could keep going. She picked him up, bridal-style, into her arms.

...

She lifted her bedroom window as quietly as possible. It was half past 1 am; Riley should be asleep by now. Thankfully her bedroom door was closed. Her arms were weak like jelly from carrying him for the past twenty minutes to get there. But she managed to ease him gently onto the floor and close her window after her.

Laura let out a huge sigh of relief and exhaustion. She nearly collapsed onto the carpeted ground beside him. She stared at his suit, the detail of the web-like artwork down his chest and legs. _Can he even breathe in that?_

She leaned forward, her hand hovering over the mask. She touched it and an electric current burnt through her fingers. Laura hissed and staggered back on her knees. That Karen AI in his suit was protecting him from being unmasked. _Clever trick. _The burn hurt, leaving her skin an angry red and blistered, but it healed nonetheless.

_Fine, if there’s a bleed in his brain and he dies, it’s not my fault. _

She didn’t mean that. Laura huffed and sat back on her hunches. He’d been unconscious for almost 40 minutes now; she couldn’t let a possible head injury go unchecked.

_Sorry dude, I have to. _

She braced herself this time, knowing her healing abilities would cure the electric burns. She took the edge of the mask and began peeling it off; her eyes watered as whatever mechanics in the suit tasered her hands continuously. They burned and healed, burned and healed.

Finally the mask was off.

Her jaw dropped to the floor.

“No fucking way.”


	6. Chapter 6

**This is a long one guys, but had to move the plot along, thank you for your reviews and stopping by to read my story. **

* * *

**Laura**

_No. Way. _

Laura rubbed her eyes, and stumbled back on her butt away from Peter.

She was tired, but not too tired to have fallen asleep and dreamt this.

Her friend, this dork from her biology class was _Spider-Man?!_

_Peter Parker _is _Spider-Man?_

She shook her head, suspended in disbelief at the truth and her own blindness to it. Her breaths were coming up deep and fast. _This can’t be true. This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening. _

Laura caged her fingers over her head, shaking it in vehement denial. She went closer with unsteady fingers to push some of his sweaty brown hair around, using the moonlight to inspect his head. There was blood around his mouth and nostrils from when they rammed into the wall, _or from the fight, maybe both. _

She checked his pulse, it was strong and steady. Laura stared at him for a long while, she’s seen what he looked like asleep whenever he dozed off in Statistics.But adding the Spider-Man suit to the equation; the revelation shook her to her core. She had a hundred questions she wanted to ask him, things to say to him when he woke up, she didn't know where to start. Laura dragged down two small pillows, carefully placing one under his head.

“Oh Peter,” she mumbled, somehow a little disappointed in herself for not realizing it sooner, a little disappointed that he hadn’t trusted her with it in the first place. That stung deep in her chest.

As she pieced it together in her mind; a lot of things became clearer; him bailing on lunch, being late to class at the same time she was late, the advanced tech in his watch, his surprisingly good reflexes and coordination for someone who was ‘bad at PE.’ It was all a front, a literal _web _of lies. When in fact, the truth was staring her right in the face everyday; in homeroom, during Bio, in the line at lunch, in the annoying jokes and quips he made after school on their walks to the subway station.

_How could I have missed this? _

* * *

**Peter**

He was floating through the darkness of space; he saw millions of stars and hundreds of galaxies everywhere he turned. He wondered if he was still in that escape-pod, being shot out of Titan’s orbit leaving Dr Strange and Mr. Stark behind. _I need to go back. I have to help them. _He realized he must be in deep sleep, yet he couldn’t recall when he’d gone to bed. Peter shuddered and stared at his hands as tendrils of black ink crept out of them and then shot out for his eyes, blinding him, choking him. He wanted to cry out, but no sound escaped his mouth.

Peter’s eyes blinked open slowly at a white ceiling and a window beside him, a cold sweat on his neck. It took a moment for his eyes to focus like he needed glasses again. It was night outside. He was certain his bedroom had white curtains not blue. “Where am I?” He groaned loudly, a head-splitting headache arching across his skull. He lifted his hands up. There were no black tendrils devouring him, but he was still in his Spider-suit.

_When did I get home? _

He turned over. Laura sat crossed legged five feet from him.

“Laura?!” He squawked and shot up, pressing himself against the wall as if he could disappear through it. “Er—I mean who are you? What am I—”

“Will you _shut up?” _She hissed, and slapped her hand over his mouth, her face very close to his, he could see her eyelashes flutter in annoyance. “You’ll wake the entire building!” She warned in a shouted whisper.

His hands went for his face and his eyes widened in horror when he felt his uncovered cheeks and hair.

“Oh _shi—_”

She uncovered his mouth and leaned away, her eyes narrowed at him.

_“_Hi Peter...or should I say Spider-Man?”

“No, no, nooo...” he shook his head, everything crumbling apart. “This-this was not supposed to happen, you-you weren’t meant to find out.”

“Yeah. Obviously,” she countered.

“Shit. Are you-are you mad at me?”

She sat back down, keeping a poker face. “I haven’t decided yet.”

He saw his mask on the floor and snatched it back up. He didn't know whether to feel anger or guilt. “You took it off huh.”

“You were passed out, I was worried you got a brain hemorrhage or something. I didn’t know what else to do but take the mask off. It’s standard First Aid procedure to check for head injuries, after what we went through.”

He sighed heavily and covered his eyes, _what a mess, what a goddamn mess. _He dropped his hands to his lap.

“I guess it’s only fair, since I already knew who you were.” 

“I thought so, since you’re not freaking out either,” she said, and looked at him as if measuring him up. “How did you find out about me?"

“You only started wearing a mask a week after you decided to do this full-time, it was kinda easy,” he remarked and that only earned a glare from her; “—but I’m not saying it’s your fault, I would—”

“Yes thank you, I am aware I have a shitty costume,” she replied, and pointed her thumb at her laundry basket. “I have a pile of ruined black t-shirts I need to mend.”

He chewed anxiously on his bottom lip. He really didn’t know what else to say or do that would make this better;

“I’m sorry, Laura, I really am.” His shoulders fell and he hugged his knees to his chest, staring at his mask, wondering why he always managed to fail one person or another doing this. 

She let out a long sigh. “It’s okay, Peter.”

“What? Really?” He said, stunned, he looked at her. “But, but I lied to you, about this, about knowing what you could do.” 

Laura shifted over and sat next to him beneath the window.

“You’ve been asleep for a bit, and I’ve had time to think about it. I don’t blame you for wanting to keep your identity a secret,” she said. “It’s what I would do, too.”

His chest surged up in a swell of relief. “That’s really good to hear, you have no idea. It has been so hard to pretend that I don’t know you, and not to drop your name in conversation when I’m wearing this,” he held his mask up into the moonlight. He’d slipped out her name in fear when the monster tossed her onto those iron rods, which would’ve killed a normal person, including him— forgetting she had healing powers.

“Thanks for saving me,” she said. “The day we met, the day we _actually_ met, when I was crossing the street.”

“I guess it was fate, wasn’t it?” He replied, the corner of his lip turning up. “How did we get here? To your apartment?” He asked, peering around her room, a vintage poster on one wall and stacks of textbooks on her desk. “We were on the other side of town.”

“I carried you for most of it, and used this.” She handed him his web-shooter. “Not gonna lie; we may or may not have almost plummeted to our deaths.”

He wanted to laugh, even though he really shouldn’t. “Sorry you had to do that. Did you at least enjoy using the web-shooters?”

“Hell no,” she shook her head in disgust. “I prefer being on solid ground thank you very much.”

He couldn’t help it; he snorted and then started to chuckle, covering his mouth, and a moment later Laura chuckled too.

He abruptly stopped,wincing at the tenderness on the right of his abdomen.

“You okay?”

He squeezed his eyes shut, fighting past the pain. “I think I got hit really bad, it’s definitely gonna bruise.”

“Yeah, it probably will.”

“I don’t have your healing powers.”

“Believe me they’re freaky, alright?” She said, not excited about it like he was. “It still amazes every time I see a cut heal or a bullet fall out of me and I don’t feel a thing.”

“You were shot?” His gaze grew larger. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah. Once, probably need to work on a disguise that is more bulletproof.” She rested her head on the wall, staring off into her dark room. “What are the odds huh?” She remarked smiling to herself and then at him. “That we’d both be doing this, together?”

He smiled back at her. This was going a whole lot better than he thought it would.

“So, what’s your code name on the streets?” 

She quirked a brow at him; “my what?”

“You know, a ‘hero’ name, whatever you want to call it.”

“What like ‘Spider-Man,’ or ‘Iron-Man?’”

“Yeah,” he nodded firmly, completely serious about it. “Come on, you must have one by now.” 

“I don’t, but people have come up with stuff; Catgirl, The Blade, Knife-trick, the Slicer— ”

Peter covered his mouth to laugh. “The last one sounds like your superpower is to cut salami.”

“Tell me about it,” she laughed quietly. “Although that does fit in the job profile.” Her claws unsheathed from her skin and back in again.

“I like Catgirl, maybe try that one out for size?”

She looked at him, hoping he was joking but he really wasn’t. “No thanks, I’ll stay nameless for now.”

“Does your foster mum know?”

“She’s a cop, she can never know, she would totally freak out. She’s already given up so much to take care of me and put me through school; I don’t want to put her in a difficult position,” she told him. “Does your aunt know?”

He nodded. “It was hard at first, but she came around eventually," he said. "What happened the day you got your powers?” 

“I don’t know. I was really sick for a couple of days and they thought I was going to die, but then I woke up one day and I had them,” she told him. _The activation process after the gamma radiation from Blip must have been delayed._

“Are your powers from the suit or did you wake up with them too?” She asked. 

“A genetically-engineered radioactive spider bit me,” he said, reminiscing on that strange morning his entire life changed, what felt like ten years ago.

She frowned at him dubiously.

“Yeah, I know how it sounds,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously. “Anyway, the suit helps bring it all together, everything was turned up to 1000, but this helps dial it down.”

“I know what you mean. There’s so much input from the entire world; everything is so loud, and the smells, and lights-“

“They just crash into you all at once, and it’s hard to focus.”

“Yeah,” she smiled softly at him, encouraged. Peter felt a little less alone in this city as Spider-Man.

“At least your abilities have an explanation."

“Yours might too." 

“And where do we get those answers? From that creepy lab we were in, where we fought that—_thing_, from another planet?” She gulped worriedly. “I’m still not over it, Peter.”

He let out deep a breath and stared up at the ceiling. “I don’t think we will ever get over it.”

“Do you think it was an alien?”

“Could still be aliens. Whatever it used to get here; was some form of teleportation. Thanos used that too.”

_And anything that involves him, means death for the rest of us. _

“Fuck,” she said under her breath, wiping her hands over her face in disquiet. “If they were experimenting on Madeline, where is she now?”

“I don’t know,” he wished he did. “If they were experimenting on her, they were probably experimenting on other kids like us in those containment pods.”

“Us?”

“Yeah,” he titled his head back to look at Laura. “We’re different. Me; sticky, and you; with the claw appendages and stuff,” he made his hands into a fist to mimic her classic fighting pose.

She rolled her eyes at him, but he could see the hint of a smile on her lips. “_Appendages_, what an attractive name for these.” 

“Well I think they’re cool and so does Tony Stark.”

“Tony Stark— You know Tony Stark?” She repeated, baffled. “Wait, does that mean you know the Avengers?

“Yeah,” he shrugged, trying to be cool about it, even though he was still a massive geek around them. He liked that it impressed her. “I met them a couple of times. I went to space with Mr. Stark—”

_“Space?” _She said, louder than he’d been before and she clamped her own mouth shut not to wake up the household.

“That’s a long story,” he replied uneasily. “Um, Stark gave me this suit. I have a lot to thank him for.”

She watched him closely. “So...you told him about me?”

“Yeah, he asked me to look into you.”

Peter realized he’d made a mistake a second too late.

“He asked you?” She echoed, growing more apprehensive. “Hold on. Does he think I’m dangerous? Does he think I’m a problem? I know I hurt Kimiko but that was an accident—”

“_No_, of course not,” he waved his hands at her adamantly, everything was going so well, and his big mouth had to ruin it. “I told him you were good, there’s nothing to worry about when it comes to that, trust me.”

But Laura was still not convinced. She got to her feet and folded her arms looking down at him with a grimace; “...so you only introduced yourself to me on the first day because you knew who I was and because Tony Stark ordered you to spy on me?”

Peter was characteristically awful at analyzing social situations, but he got the gist that he needed to be really, _really _careful where he treaded here.

“Yeah...at first,” he began, uncertainly. He stood up with her, “but it’s not like we wouldn’t have gotten to know one another eventually, we have classes together.” His arms were doing their thing, waving more wildly the more nervous he was. “The circumstances are just different now, but that’s okay... right?”

Laura pressed her lips together and looked down at her shoes, quiet, but that response more than aptly conveyed her feelings on the matter.

He wanted to take back everything he said. “Laura, are you upset or—”

“No—no I’m not—”

Her morning alarm blared in the small room, and with everything that happened that night— the portal to the abyss of space, that black ink monster with the tentacles—Peter jumped a little at the familiar-if not equally triggering sound - of the Apple alarm at 6:30am.

They both glanced at her alarm and then back at one another;

“We have to get to school—”

“I’m going to be late for school—” she said at the same time.

He cleared his throat, still concerned he was going to leave things damaged permanently, but Laura was already sitting on her bed taking her boots off.

“I’m going to head home,” he announced, picking up mask from the floor. “Thank you for—for saving my life, our lives.”

She gave him a stiff smile. “No problem.”

“We still have a lot to discuss,” he noted, and lifted her bedroom window up. “I’ll uh—I’ll see you in homeroom then.”

“Okay. See you.”

* * *

**Peter**

Despite having every intention of going home to shower, change and inhale his breakfast, he didn’t see her in homeroom-because Peter was Peter; he was late for homeroom_ and_ 5 minutes late to first period Biology. When he got there his plans to apologise to her were thwarted when he saw someone else occupying in the seat next to her. Even when he went to pass the rest of their project to her, she barely made any eye contact with him.

_You messed up, Peter. You messed up real bad. _

He was on edge the entire day, and he didn’t see Laura until fifth period History. That class was with Mrs. Rowena; the strictest teacher they had. It was the absolute worst time to strike a conversation with anyone about anything that wasn’t the French Revolution, but he was still going to try. 

Peter got there on time after his last warning not to be late and slid into his seat next to Laura.

“Hey, is everything okay?” He asked her, catching his breathe after running to get there.

She finally looked at him and nodded, her face a blank slate, not giving him much to work with.

“I’m just really tired, we were up all night,” she lowered her voice. “And I’m still reeling from finding out that you’re Spider-Man, I mean, canyou blame me?”

“Mr. Parker, Ms Kinney!” Mrs Rowena’s voice whipped to them from the whiteboard. Peter sat straighter like she was a drill-sergeant. “Anything you want to share with the class?”

“Not at all Mrs. Rowena, sorry!” Peter replied.

“Then pay attention, this is important for your mid-terms at the end of the month.”

He peered down at his notebook. He felt eyes on him from his left and saw Penelope grinning at him from where she sat. It nearly took his breath away how gorgeous she was today, especially with the golden afternoon sunlight in her hair. Peter returned the smile, his heart racing. He hoped he wasn’t blushing when he faced the whiteboard once more.

When they started their bookwork, he leaned over to Laura again, whispering; “I understand that it was a lot to take in, I just don’t want there to be anything wrong between us, we can talk to each other. You’ve barely spoken to me the whole day, I just have a sense about these things.”

“A sense?” She lifted a brow, skeptical.

He scratched the side of his head with his pen. “A-a Peter tingle.” As he said it, he couldn’t believe how incredibly lame it sounded. Not to mention the that fact he was even _using _that phrase Aunt May coined, to his chagrin.

She frowned at him. "Sorry, a what?”

“We gotta work on the name for it—look, if you’re mad at me, please tell me.” Peter was hopeless at reading signals, when he and Ned argued-which was rare anyway-they usually talked it out soon after, no passive aggressive looks or cold shoulders involved.

“I’m not mad at you,” she replied, exasperated. “So will you please chill out? If I was actually mad at you, you’d definitely know.”

“Right. Okay then,” he gave an affirmative nod. _Not so bad. _He peered at the clock and saw Penelope again in his field of view. The moment she lifted her eyes to him he looked away, his leg restless beneath the desk, praying she hadn’t caught him gawking at her.

“So...Penelope’s party is tonight, you still up for it?”

“Peter,” Laura began, pragmatically. “We just battled a monster that arrived here through a portal from another-dimension? _Planet?_ Who knows? Do we really have time for a party?”

“I have Karen scanning for more energy spikes like the one last night—besides, the building burnt down and we have no more leads. We can work on it after the party.” He stopped himself, realizing he was being a pushy friend; “but if you don’t want to go, it’s okay. I don’t want to force you—”

“No, we’ll go, I definitely need a drink,” she cut in, wagging her pen as she did when she was in thought. “I’ll meet you there,” she used her pen to gesture at him. “And don’t wear this outfit.”

He stared down at his usual school clothes, frowning. "My outfit? What’s wrong with my outfit?”

* * *

**Laura**

The more she hung out with Peter after finding out he was Spider-Man the more she started to see how similar their voices and mannerisms were. _People are not at all what they seem. _Neither did she want to make a big deal out of finding out _Tony Stark_ himself wanted to know who she was. _So much for a keeping a low profile. _She had known Peter long enough to know that he didn’t mean any ill will towards her when they first became friends.

Yet she couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that the only interesting thing about her had been her powers; the only reason he wanted to get to know her in the first place.

Laura was use to having a hard time keeping friends because of moving around a lot when she was kid. But in her mind, that couldn’t be an excuse after living in New York for the last five years. She started to realise the problem was her and not with anyone else. _I must have been pretty unremarkable without my powers, _she thought despondently, as she walked to the Bio lab to meet up with Peter.

Peter spoke to her as she strolled in; “there’s still no sign of energy spikes like last night—”

She plopped her backpack onto a stool. “Are you still reporting to Tony Stark about me?” Laura asked him directly.

Peter blinked wide at her from above his laptop screen; “no I’m not,” he answered immediately. He wasn’t quick on his feet when it came to lying but since he’d replied so confidently, she was certain he was telling the truth.

“Okay, good. That’s the only problem I had with this, but since you’re not and I believe you. We’re good.”

“Uh, okay, that’s great,” he said, mustering a smile after she’d taken him off guard. “I’m glad we got that out of the way, for real.”

“Me too. So, what did you want to show me?”

“Um, okay—these are DNA analyses,” he turned his laptop screen to her and she sat down on the stool beside him. “They used some kind of advanced fluorescent hybridization to map her entire genome,” said Peter, pointing to a piece of data on his screen. “I could single out this gene that doesn’t fit with what has been found so far.” 

“How did you do this? In this lab?” MidTown Bio lab was advanced but not _that _advanced.

“My internship at Oscorp,” he said, “I snuck around their genetics lab and gave it a spin.”

“Wow, and you didn’t even get caught.”

He angled himself in his chair to her, an excited grin itching to take over his face.

“Why do you look so happy?” Laura asked.

“We should take a sample of your blood.”

“Yeah. Not cool,” she shook her head, “no thanks.”

“Come on,” he moaned, “don’t tell me you’re afraid of needles or blood, because that’s bullshit.”

“I don’t know, I feel weird about it.”

“Why?”

Laura sighed, finally getting all of their secrets and insecurities in the open. “I was in the hospital before the powers came; the doctors and nurses looked at me like I was a freak. They kept running their tests, and taking their blood samples, but they just couldn’t figure out what was wrong with me. I felt like an experiment. That’s why.”

Peter’s features softened to understanding. “I see, but this isn’t like that; this is you taking charge of things. What if you have what Madeline does?” He gestured at the genome map. “It could link all of you guys together somehow.” He rifled through his bag for something. “Look; I already swiped a needle and syringe from Nurse Lopez.” He held up the items in either hand and she scolded him;

“Peter!”

“What?” His shoulders went up defensively; “I was taking the initiative!”

“Do you even know how to take blood?”

“Uh, no? We’ll figure it out along the way.”

Laura rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “My body will heal around the needle, you won't draw blood at all. Grab a a test tube.”

He opened a drawer and drew one out for her. Laura popped out her claws and slashed her palm open over the sink and test tube, collecting the blood.

“Whoa. Okay,” remarked Peter, startled. “I guess that works too.”

Her skin healed and his mouth gaped open. “I’ve never seen it happen that fast. Doesn’t that hurt?”

“I had two 30-inch iron rods sticking through my spine last night,” she handed him the test tube. “This doesn’t definitely doesn’t hurt.”

He corked it and filled a weatherproof baggie with ice for safekeeping before he went to the Oscorp lab tomorrow.

“This is still so amazing you have no idea,” he was grinning ear to ear, it was actually quite endearing how enthusiastic he could get about things.

“Did you use to do this kind of stuff with Ned?” She asked him, out of the blue.

Peter stopped his motions, he became closed off and averted his eyes from her. “Oh... that’s a heavy question.”

“I know, but we don’t always talk about it. And I have a lot more questions, so I thought we could start with the harder stuff, and everything will be easier after we climb that hill.”

He slowly zipped the baggie up. “He was my best friend…he was the best,” he said, for lack of better word, _but I guess when you love someone that much, it’s hard to find the words to describe what they meant to you. _

“I didn’t intend for him to find out about me either, but he did,” said Peter with a fond yet sad smile. “He was my guy in the chair—he would’ve figured out all the hacking stuff faster than me.”

“My mum died in the Blip.” He already knew that from gossip, but not from Laura’s mouth. “I never got to say goodbye.”

“I’m sorry,” he looked up at her. “I lost my parents too, when I was younger.”

She steeled herself. “The bank seized everything,” Laura began to tell him; “our apartment, our cranky old minivan that was wrecked anyway in the Blip. Don’t get me started on the life insurance; my mum worked for 22 years, and now that she’s gone so is the money.” The thought still made her want to punch walls. “They found some loophole to hog all of it. Apparently being erased from existence isn’t considered death to those fucking vultures.”

“Jesus. That’s so unfair,” he said, shaking his head in loathing. “My aunt got me into these grief workshops that got very popular afterwards,” Peter went on, a little more comfortable now. “There were so many people attending them; talking about moving on and finding someone new to love after their spouses died, a lot of parents grieving their children.” Peter pressed his lips together and stared at his hands, visibly wincing. “I couldn’t handle it, to be honest.”

“You didn’t think they were even a little bit useful?”

“I... looked back at everything and everyone I’ve ever hurt, or might have hurt and wonder if I should have been nicer to them,” he told her. “I didn’t know that it was the last time I’d ever say hi to the people in my class, or... sit on the bus with them,” he swallowed, his voice getting lower, more distant. “I couldn’t stop blaming myself, or wishing I’d said and done something differently.”

When he was done, he slowly lifted his eyes to her, chewing the inside of his cheek. Laura understood what it was like to hurt someone you love, she had a knack of saying awful things to her mother when she was mad. She couldn’t even ask for forgiveness for those fights anymore.

“When Gen Z and millennial make a meme out of the world ending we don’t actually mean it,” she said quietly. With that, Peter let out a dry snicker of agreement;

“Yeah we’re really fucked up.”

...

Later that night, Laura arrived on the pavement in front of Penelope’s dizzyingly tall, swanky apartment block, and she wondered why she was so nervous showing up at a party when this was her norm in her old school. Maybe it was the crowd, or the location, or the fact that she was going to be in a packed apartment with sweaty bodies and pumping music with her senses on overload. She had noidea how her body was going to take to alcohol now with her powers, she’d stayed away from it when she got them in the first place.

Laura clenched and unclenched her fist to calm herself down. A red car in dire need of a paint job rolled up behind her. She was pleasantly surprised to see May winding down the driver side window.

She bent over and waved at her. “Hi May!”

“Laura! It’s so good to see you again, you look so cute!” She waved back at Laura with a cheery smile.

“Thanks!” Laura had put on a more fitted pair of blue jeans and a black lacy top. It was nice not to be in her vigilante outfit for a change, although that really depended on how the night went. Peter hopped out of the passenger seat in a cleaner pair of sneakers and button-up shirt, as per her advice. The tension in her neck and joints released itself to have him here with her.

“You make sure he doesn’t drink too much, okay?” May said to her. “Just a light buzz is all I’m allowing; don’t get drunk, sweetheart, you don’t even know your own tolerance,” May said to Peter, and then held the side of her hand as if to whisper a secret to Laura;

“It’s only his second high school party and he barely went to the last one—”

Peter held his palm up; “okay, okay, she doesn’t need to know the details,” he blushed. “I won’t drink too much, promise.”

They waved goodbye to his aunt and turned towards the lobby of the apartment.

“She’s okay with you coming to an unsupervised party?”

“She insisted on dropping me off.”

“That’s wild.”

“What about your foster mum?”

“She’s a cop so she works nights,” said Laura, shrugging, although she knew Riley probably wouldn’t mind that she went to a party. _She might mind if there's alcohol, and because I snuck out. _

“No wonder you haven’t gotten caught sneaking out.”

_Not yet. _Laura elbowed him. “We’ve done more dangerous things than going to an unsupervised party, haven’t we?” She said, and he smirked back at her, acknowledging their little secret.

...

The loud, banging music of the party was destroying her sensitive ears and it took Laura half an hour to get used to it. The apartment was packed to the walls; everyone people dancing, talking, shouting, cheering, making out, breaking off to quieter places to hook up. There were people from school, and people she’d never seen in her entire life.

“Should we find Penelope?” Peter asked her, half-shouting at her over the hip-hop music.

At that moment they spotted Penelope making out with a guy they didn’t recognise. He had expensive shoes, and a shiny silver watch. The couple backed into a corner and disappeared.

“Yeah, I think she’s preoccupied, Peter,” Laura replied, leaning into his ear. “The gossip on the track team is that she got back with her ex, some guy in college, apparently he’s loaded.” 

Peter seemed a little dejected after that but once they started drinking, everything got much better. She tried to warn him not to mix his drinks, but with the alcoholic drinks offered to them left and right and the various liquor bottles scattered around the huge kitchen; it was hard to keep track.

It went without being said; Penelope’s penthouse was the fanciest apartment she ever set foot in. She wondered why Penelope even attended a specialised public school, when she could easily afford a private school with way more perks.

After her 4th drink she waited for the buzz to hit her all at once. She was ready to get fucked up, no booze, no partying all summer, staying dry for this moment. But her head remained damnably clear and something quite dreadful was dawning on her;

She couldn’t get drunk.

Peter managed to cut loose and was mingling with some of his friends from the Decathlon team. Laura went back to the kitchen and poured herself another drink, and another and another. _Maybe a few more and it’ll work, come on Laura you can do this,_ she cheered on for herself. By then she wiped the vodka off her chin. She finished an entire bottle. Still nothing. _Shit. _She kept on muttering to herself about her powers being a buzz kill when she overheard an argument in the hallway.

“You’re leaving?” Penelope’s voice was harsh when it came through the wall. Laura didn’t want to use her enhanced hearing to eavesdrop, but sometimes the rule-bending side of her took over and she couldn’t help herself;

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Penelope hissed.

“I’m leaving,” a male voice responded, equally pissed. “I’m done with you, and your games.”

Laura’s ears perked up and she leaned on the counter pretending to drink and mind her own business;

“You’d never survive in this world without me,” Penelope said icily, stabbing a finger at what Laura guessed—was her boyfriend.

“The Penelope I knew had a sense of humour and wasn’t trying to manipulate everyone around her.”

“I know I’ve changed, and you _know_ why,” she replied, and Laura could picture Penelope glaring daggers at him. She was pretty but she could be scary as hell when she wanted something her way. Laura understood that from how competitive she was during track team practice.

“Harry. We need each other,” stated Penelope, like there was no doubt about the bond they shared.

“I think _you_ need to see a therapist,” he replied mercilessly, shoving past her, “because I don’t know who the fuck you are anymore.”

Laura heard Penelope snatch his arm to stop him. Suddenly, she caught the scent of freshly cut grass and an expensive perfume wafting from the hall to where she stood;

“Tonight, you’re going to walk into incoming traffic,” Penelope said to him, bitterness dripping on every word, “and you’ll keep walking into the busy street until a car hits you and breaks both your legs. Then you’ll know what it feels like to lose everything.”

Laura frowned, puzzled by the bizarre end to the argument. She leaned off the counter,just as Peter appeared next to her with a stupid smile on his face.

* * *

**Peter **

“Why are you not drunk?” He asked Laura, his head feeling fuzzy and happy, like soft blanket wrapping him up like a burrito. His fingers were numb too, but he liked it.

She blew out her cheeks, frustrated. “I think my powers include annoyingly fast metabolism. It’s like my liver cells are trying their fucking best to keep me sober and make sure I have no fun whatsoever.” She reached over with a teasing smile and fixed his collar; “you on the other hand; you’re pretty wasted.”

“Oh noooo. I’m fine!” He said confidently, and he had to stop himself and ask where had all this confidence been his entire life. “What the heck are you talking about? Holy shit this pool is so cool.”

He spotted the indoor pool that Penelope closed off for good reason; _teenagers can be nasty. _He pressed himself against the window mesmerized by the pale blue waters rippling from the jets of bubbles.

Laura leaned on the window next to him, with a lopsided grin. "You don't seem fine."

“We both have mutated DNA; and yes, I admit I am a little tipsy,” he agreed, and turned his shoulder to face her; “_but_ I don’t think I’ll get wasted. We’re on the same level of cool right now.”

He was so wrong.

She rolled her eyes and patted him on the shoulder. “You’re totally convincing me,” she laughed. “Let me know if you want to go home Parker. You’ve partied pretty hard and I’m proud.”

She removed her hand from his shoulder but he caught it in the space between them, his fingers curling through hers. _How could someone with such tiny hands do so much damage?_

“I’m proud of us,” he announced with a big, sloppy smile. “For-for being Spider-Man and whatever your super-hero name’s going to be, and for saving the city—”

“Ssshh!” She held a finger on his mouth; “you’re shouting right now, do you want the entire party to find out our secret?” Even as she scolded him she was smiling.

“Oh shit, you’re right, you’re right,” he snorted. Yet for the first time, he didn't actually care if someone heard them.

Laura gently held his neck and cupped the side of his face, and that was the last thing he expected her to do. For a moment, everything between them was still, the music a faint beat in the background. He liked how he felt, then again, he wasn’t capable of any rational thought at this point.

“Maybe I should get you some water, yeah?” She offered, dropping her hands.

He nodded dumbly; _maybe water would be a good idea, or not, who knows._

His gaze followed her as she wound through the crowd, then Laura got dragged into a circle of her teammates on the track team. It seemed like she was going to be there for a while. Peter enjoyed the mind-numbing, freeing sensation. _I can't believe I haven't done this more often. _He was fine being tipsy and decided to explore the penthouse on his own.

He shimmied the lock to the indoor pool house and wandered in, the blue of the tiny waves on the pool dancing on the ceiling and across his body.

He reared back when someone cleared their throat;

Penelope was sitting on the edge of the pool, her feet in the water; she gave him a small wave. 

“Hey, Peter.”

A not-drunk Peter would’ve profusely apologized and made a hasty exit, then subsequently prayed that she wouldn’t remember this brief encounter tomorrow morning— but drunken Peter went closer until he was standing over her;

“Why are you sitting over here by yourself?” He asked boldly. “It’s your party.”

Her mouth twisted. “The person I threw it for left.”

“I’m sorry,” he said and sat down next to her, their shoulders almost touching. The thrill of it making his heart race. He felt brave, as if he were diving from a hundred story building for the first time. Somehow she looked even prettier in the body-hugging powder blue dress she wore. For some miraculous reason she wasn’t telling him to leave, it emboldened him further. 

Penelope stared at her feet floating in the water with a hardened look. “Hopefully they get what they deserve.”

“Yeah they should, they’re idiots.” 

They turned to one another, she was frowning at him curiously;

“Do you like me, Peter?

Peter blinked at her, taken aback, he felt his entire face red hot. He hoped the blue reflections of the pool obscured it. Had he stared too long at her during History class today? “Uh—of course I do,” he said after a moment, stumbling through a generic answer that wouldn’t make a fool out of him. “Everyone likes you, you’re super nice, and funny, and kind—”

She made a dismissive pfft sound. “You’re just throwing out flattering adjectives to make me feel better.”

He laughed awkwardly, she was right about that. “Yeah, I guess it does sound a bit cliché.” He was intimidated by her even more, but he didn't move. At least she was being honest. 

“Are you drunk?”

“No!” He protested a little too loud, his ‘no’ echoed around the tall ceilings of the poolroom. “Why does everyone think that?” He said, lowering his volume.

“You never come up to me to talk to me,” she gestured at his chest, studying him; “you seem a bit calmer now.”

“Really? Gosh, am I normally a fumbling mess?”

“Sort of,” she cocked her head in agreement. “But it’s always very funny and sweet.”

“Stop, stop,” he waved his hand to her, “now you’re the one trying to flatter me.” Penelope snickered and they fell into silence again, the only sound were the jets of the pool and the muffled party music beating through the walls.

“Why did you throw this party for someone who doesn’t deserve it?” He asked her abruptly, she stared at him and he his resolve wavered a little. “Sorry if that’s too personal—”

“I only threw this party because I wanted to impress my boyfriends friend’s,” she explained to him, “but he chooses to be a dick anyway. It’s his birthday and he chooses to just—to leave me, and us,” she let out a deep breathe, her shoulders falling. She was always so confident, endearing, bright. He couldn't understand how anyone couldn't like her. “He keeps telling me I’ve changed but—he doesn’t even know the beginning of it."

“The world changed, not us. The rest of us were forced to adapt,” said Peter solemnly, it was coming from all the grief and darkness he tried to bury about the day they lost. “It’s not like it was our choice.” It clenched his heart to hear more relationships falling apart after the Blip, although Penelope’s boyfriend didn’t sound like he was a fantastic guy to begin with, maybe it was his lucky day? He didn't want to get in over his head, with a girl who was better than him in every way.

“Yeah, that’s what I’ve been trying to tell him,” she said, “but he won’t listen, he never listens,” she kicked up the water with her foot, frustrated.

“I get it,” Peter said, “it sucks to give people the whole world and they don’t even show you that same level of appreciation.”

“No they don’t,” she slowly shook her head, her voice was far away and pained. "No one gets it. I feel even more alone than I ever was."

"I think a lot of people do too. But they pretend they aren't," he said softly. 

She blinked as if snapping out of her sadness and smiled at him, "wow that was pretty heavy." Her eyes were dark and lidded, scanning over him;

“Do you want to kiss me, Peter?”

This time he really was taken off guard, he fell back on his hand as if he'd been pushed. “What?” He burst out, mortified, although he didn’t have any reason to be embarrassed. She was the one who posed the question. His words tumbled over themselves; “_No—_I would never; I would never do that without your consent. I would never take advantage of you being—”

A smell struck his nostrils, a cocktail of Uncle Ben’s old leather suitcase, Aunt May’s favorite perfume and something else that was familiar, but he couldn’t place. He couldn’t help but keep his eyes fixated on Penelope’s brown eyes.

“Answer the question,” she instructed him, her warmth and charm melted away. “And be completely honest.”

Peter throat bobbed up and down as he swallowed, he bit down hard on his lip, trying to think of _anything _else to say, anyway at all to deflect the question. But he couldn’t, he just _had _to tell her. A bead of sweat dripped down his neck as he struggled to get the words he didn’t _want _to say out.

“Y-Yes, I do,” he admitted and he felt his face go hot with horror and humiliation. _What am I doing? Why would I commit this kind of social suicide?_

“I really do. But I-I don’t know if I should...” _Peter, shut the fuck, shut the fuck up. Right. Now._ “B-because I think I’m a really bad kisser,” he was unable to keep the word vomit inside. “I got strep throat the last time I kissed a girl in f-freshman year,” _why would I tell her that? Why the fuck would I tell her that?_ “And you’re so pretty and I don’t want to mess up, it would—”

Before he could understand what was happening to him, Penelope held his chin with her fingers, squishing his lips, stopping him.

“Kiss me,” she said, yet she didn’t look happy, or even attracted to him, her face was stone-like, cold. But she wanted him to kiss her, and he couldn't refuse her.

Peter’s heartbeat was drumming in his ears, he swallowed his fears and leaned in closer and before he knew it; it was happening. He was kissing Penelope.

Her lips were soft and moist from whatever lip-gloss she was wearing. Penelope kissed him back, it seemed like she was into it, but he didn’t have enough experience to tell. He lifted his hand to hold her forearm, being careful not to cross any boundaries. She grabbed the sides of his face, rough and urgent and kissed him harder. He thought he would enjoy his first real kiss, but it felt awful, but even if he wanted to stop, he didn’t, because she didn’t want to.

Penelope broke the kiss instead, and her hands left his face. “Am I doing it wrong?” He asked her, even though inside he didn’t care if he was, he just wanted to leave. Yet she had this magnetic energy that made him want to ensure she got exactly what she wanted.

“No,” she replied callously. “I thought it would make me feel better, but it doesn’t.”

Peter felt like a horse had kicked him in the stomach. _Crap.__ She hates me. I couldn’t even do this right. I’m such a loser._

“Oh sorry, I'm sorry—I can—” he was starting to unravel into the fumbling mess he’d described, she held up her hand to stop him.

“Leave me alone,” she said and turned away from him. The poolroom felt icy cold.

He held the sides of his head, the room spinning, that smell of Uncle Ben’s suitcase still hitting him. Peter pushed himself up to stand and got the hell out of there.

...

In the hallway the weight crushing his chest was finally lifted off. He was taking in big gulps of air, as if he was suffocating a second ago. The mixed smell from was gone. He leaned on the wall, using his sleeve to wipe sweat from his forehead.

_What the hell just happened? _

Before he could process things his phone started to ring. Now that he was away from Penelope, he felt a bit more alert, but no less a drunken moron; he didn’t even check the Caller ID before answering.

“Hello?”

_“Peter, are you drunk?” _

Of course Tony Stark had to call at the worst possible time.

“Oh—Mr. Stark,” he cleared his throat, running his hands through his hair as he tried to keep it together, “nice-nice to hear from you. I’m not drunk. No—what kind of idea is that? I mean pfft that’s crazy, I’m not even 21.”

There was a few seconds of silence. _“Okay, you’re drunk,” _Stark concluded.

“Tony-Tony—“

_“Oh it’s Tony now?”_

“Sorry. Mr Stark," he corrected himself. "I’m at a party okay, I don’t really understand what’s going on,” Peter started to ramble, “yeah I’m a little drunk, and I kissed a girl, because she wanted me to kiss her, but I don’t think I did it right—”

_“Whoa slow down, Peter. I did not anticipate having to discuss how far along first base you went.” _said Tony, and for a moment Peter assumed they would move on from it, but apparently, Stark enjoyed pulling his leg about it. “_Okay, don’t worry Pete, first things first; did she kiss you back?” _

“Uh—yeah? I think so?” He wasn’t sure either. Technically she did, but even though he’d imagined himself kissing her a hundred times before that, the whole situation felt unnatural and forced.

He heard Tony sucking in his teeth. _“Ooh, not very reassuring Peter, I can’t do much from my end if the girl wasn’t into it from the get go—“_

Peter clutched his forehead, this was giving him a headache. “Okay this is weird Mr Stark, is there a reason you called, I want to go get back—“

_“Yeah, of course there is kid._ _Swinging through the city with new friends huh_?” Peter’s phone dinged with a picture. It was a screenshot of him and Laura talking to each other on the street after the lava battle.

Peter smacked his forehead, swearing under his breathe. _I am knee-deep in shit now. _

_“I had to find out on my own that said new friend is also your classmate!”_ Tony admonished._ “What happened to just ‘keeping an eye’ on her? You didn’t think telling me this would be important? I asked you to report to me.” _

“What? You asked me to report to Happy!”

_“Who reports to me, about any new vigilantes or heroes on the streets, and you did not do that either.”_

He spotted Laura inthe crowd of the dance-floor, all he wanted to do right now was leave with her. “Mr. Stark, Mr. Stark, I know I didn’t do that, and I will fix it, but do we really need to have this conversation right now?”

Tony sighed sympathetically. _“Ah alright kid, you had a disappointing make-out sesh I understand.” _

“I didn’t—“

“Maybe try a mint next time.”

“It wasn’t—!”

Just when Peter thought his night couldn’t get any worse.

“Ah there he is! Penis Parker!”

Flash Thompson voice blared through the surround sound speakers of the apartment. Before he could even mentally prepare himself for it, far too many people’s attention zoned in on him, and he internally winced.

“Okay! I gotta go!”

_“What was—“_

He hung up on Mr. Stark, to be honest, Peter wouldn’t have minded if he shrivelled up and died at that point.

* * *

**Laura**

At first she was going to ask him how his kiss with Penelope was, just to annoy him about it. She saw the beginning of it and walked off not to be a weirdo staring. She was okay until she overhead Peter’s conversation with Mr Stark on the phone.

Laura had to askherself how she she was so stupid as to willingly believe him and trust him after all this time. There was a whole other side of him that she still had no idea about. She was hurt; he was still lying about the spying, and she couldn't believe he was even spying on her to begin with. Everything she bottled up since last night was boiling to the surface, but her plans to confront him were interrupted by the dazzling announcement over the speakers;

“Ay Parker is it true you gave Melanie Groff herpes in freshman year?” Flash announced with his mic, turning down the music and causing fifty heads in the room to spin to Peter. Laura pushed through the crowd to get to him, he was standing shellshocked in the the corner of the room. 

“What? I-no!” He shouted back, a delayed reaction. “Why— _Shit_ someone heard me tell her," he hissed under his breath.

“Yo ladies, Peter has herpes; please keep a 3 by 3 foot perimeter around him at all times!” Flash’s taunts were never-ending and the crowd joined in to laugh.

“Why did he call you that?” She tugged on Peter’s arm, drawing his attention away from Flash. “What the hell is he doing?”

“Laura!” He exclaimed. “Thank God, I was looking for you.”

“What is he _doing_?” She demanded, tired of him dodging her questions. 

Peter gave a small shake of his head, exasperated but not surprised by what was happening. “It’s just Flash being Flash,” he replied monotonously.

“Why is he telling everyone you have herpes?” She asked him. “Do you have herpes?” Even if he did, if anyone in the party had ever cracked open a book they’d know there were two types of herpes viruses, one of which children got too in the form of cold sores around their mouth. 

_“No. _I don’t have herpes. I-it’s a long story, someone overheard me tell Penelope a story about my first kiss, but it _did not_ involve herpes,” he held her arm trying to pull her out of there. “It’s no big deal, Laura-”

“It is when Thompson is announcing it to everyone here!” She argued yanking her arm back.

“Penis Parker!” He mocked him over the speakers again, met with jeers from the party goers. Laura felt sick to her stomach. She glared at Flash on the mini stage and she charged for him.

“Hey,” Peter latched onto her again, a pleading look on his features. “You don’t want to become a target too,” he cautioned. She was still mad at him, but that anger was momentarily directed at Flash.

“Peter, we have powers; have you seen what we’ve done on Youtube, what you’ve done? What we’ve _fought?” _She stabbed him in the chest._ “You_ shouldn’t let boys like Flash Thompson bully you like that in front of a crowd at a _party, _or anywhere as a matter of fact!” She said through gritted teeth.

“Laura—!”

She shook his arm off and stalked to Flash’s DJ table faster than he could shove his way through the dance floor. 

“Hey Thompson!” Laura hollered. “Did anyone tell you that your personality is literal shit?” She barked at him.

The music stopped completely as he pulled down his headphones to listen to her, his eyes narrowed to slits. “New girl, are you sure you want to start something with me?”

“His name is Peter, _not_ Penis Parker. Jesus, could you be anymore more immature?”

“Hey Peter,” Flash addressed him, as he lingered behind her, “you need a girl to come to your rescue instead of having the balls to say it yourself?” He laughed at his own remark, and she stepped onto the stage. No one in the crowd was laughing now, more people were muttering and pulled out their phones to film the whole fight.

“Hey! I’m talking to you,” her glared deepened. “I’m telling you to keep your mouth _shut. _Or else.”

“Or else what?” He retorted scathingly.

Peter stepped up behind her. “Okay, I think we’ve had enough—”

“I’ll break your entire DJ set,” she warned. “You play crap music anyway— I’d be doing everyone here a favour.”

“Is that a threat?” Flash demanded with a withering look. “I don’t know if you’re a short a couple of brain cells after transferring from whatever shithole you came from, but over here, you watch your mouth when you talk to me or my mother—”

Laura lunged for him; “I don’t fucking think so—”

Before anything could happen, Peter wrapped his arms around her waist and hauled her away, Laura kicked up and hit the table; a speaker crashing to the floor.

“You’re going to pay for that!” Flash yelled as he tried to grab her but someone pulled his shirt to hold him back.

“Laura! Flash! What the hell is going on here?” Penelope appeared behind Flash looking pissed at the commotion they were causing.

“Yeah that’s right you better stay away from me, you psycho!” Flash yelled.

By then, Peter had dragged her further and further away. Finally at the doorway she shoved him off her.

“Why the hell did you stop me?” She demanded, finally taking her anger out on Peter.

“Because you were starting a fight out of nowhere, for no reason! I didn’t ask you to do that!”

“Someone had to!” Laura snapped, and then shouldered past him for the lift. She was fed up and wanted to leave this god-forsaken party. _I should never have come here. _

“Laura! Wait!” Peter followed her out. “Don’t just walk away! Laura—”

She went into the lift, but because Peter was drunk he was sluggish and the doors closed before he could join her. Yet as she was leaving the lobby he’d caught the next one to catch up with her.

“Laura. We need to talk!” Peter snatched her wrist once more and she glared at him, but it didn’t make him shrink away.“Just because we have powers doesn’t make us better than them, doesn’t mean we can break their property,” he reprimanded.

She held up a finger to his face. “Even if we didn’t have powers, you don’t have to take that kind of bullshit from him everyday. Don’t lie to me about it—”

“Getting into a fight and throwing threats around isn’t how you solve it either!” He argued, throwing his arms out. “This is high school; you can't pick a fight with anyone you don't like, it’s not the same as if we were out there fighting real bad guys.”

“I was just trying to stand up for you, okay?” Her voice was hoarse, throat raw from all the yelling.“Or maybe you don’t see it that way because we’re not friends.”

By the time she’d let that one slip, her chest felt like it was caving in on itself from the toll all these emotions took on her.

He frowned at her, then blinked, taken aback. “What? What do you mean?” 

Laura crossed her arms over her chest. “I was just some assignment Tony Stark told you to ‘keep an eye on.’”

Peter closed his eyes as it hit him like a pile of bricks. “You heard that phone call.”

She snorted derisively. “You’re forgetting the ‘mutated DNA’ I have.”

He was flummoxed. “But I thought we were okay, you said we were okay.”

“I was trying not to be petty about it, until I heard that conversation between you and Mr. Stark,” she said, forcing herself not to let her hurt show. “Does he think I’m dangerous?”

“No—I mean, he wasn’t sure, at first.”

“You know I didn’t mean to hurt Kimiko, I told you,” there was a sob threatening to break through. “It was an accident. You should know that.”

“I do,” he insisted, he drew closer to her but she took a step back.

“The least you could have done was tell him that you didn't want to spy on me anymore,” she said. “But you didn’t have the guts, just like Flash said."

Peter's face fell into a pained expression and he plastered his hand over his forehead. “Shit, I’m sorry. I can explain—”

“Hey, asshole! Get off the road!”

The argument was cut short and their gazes directed at the street. There was a taxi driver yelling at a guy standing in front of his headlights. She recognized the guy as Harry; Penelope’s college boyfriend.

“I can’t!” He yelled, distraught. “I need to stay here until I get hit by a car, so come for me, man. Do it! Do it! Break my legs!”

“What the fuck is wrong with you, bro?” The cab driver tossed his hand up at him, he was less irritated now, more concerned. “You need help!”

“That’s Penelope’s boyfriend.” She squinted at him. “Is he drunk?”

“Ex-boyfriend,” Peter piped up to correct her.

_Oh this is rich. _She spun her head to him. “I see, so that’s why you were kissing her.”

He went red from his cheeks to neck, eyes going round. “It wasn’t like that, I—”

Harry’s cries trialed to them. “If you won’t do it, I’ll just find another car to break my legs!”

He stepped away from the parked cab and into the street. The lights had just turned green and the cars were coming for him, fast.

Laura stared at him worriedly. “Peter, I don’t think he’s going to stop.”

Car honks blared through the night, their headlights getting brighter and brighter the closer they came. Laura ran, dashing onto the street and snatched him. She jumped off the hood of a car, leaping onto the pavement. She landed on her shoulder with a couple of grazes, but mostly intact. More importantly, Harry was okay.

At least she thought he was.

Harry rolled and stood on wobbly legs. Laura watched in horror and realized he was going to try again.

She tackled him to the ground, pinning his shoulders down and straddling him. He fought to free himself from beneath her. 

“Harry!” She yelled into his face to force him to look at her. “What the hell is wrong with you? What do you think you're doing?"

He was sweating so much his shirt was damp at the back; his eyes were tearful, jaw clenched tight as he cried out in his struggle. “I-I have to keep walking into traffic until I break my legs, she told me to—so I would understand her pain. I think I get it now—I—”

“She didn’t mean it _literally _you dumbass!”

“I have to keep going,” he tried to punch her arms but she was stronger. “I have to!”

In all the terrible things faced this week, somehow this was worse than Madeline-lava monster, mad scientist laboratory, and portal with scary black ink alien-combined.

“No you don’t! Listen to me,” she grabbed the edges of his collar, imploring him. “You had an argument but it doesn’t mean you have to kill yourself. You’ll probably get back together in a week! But even so, it’s okay, we can get you help.” She didn’t have a clue who the hell he was, but life was shitty after the Blip, everyone felt that, everyone shared that pain, and Laura could see his.

“I don’t want to do it,” he sobbed, then the urgency returned like whiplash. “But she wants me to! So I have to! Okay?”

He fought her. So she did what she thought was right; she punched him.

With one strike Harry was unconscious. By then Peter had joined her.

She got off, Peter helped to prop Harry against a wall. He used a web to stick him to it in case he tried to run into traffic when he woke up. They rifled through his pockets and texted a couple of numbers on his phone, hoping someone would care enough to come and get him. Calling a cab wasn’t going to do the trick, if he tried to kill himself again the moment it got there.

“What the hell was in his drink?” Muttered Peter, once that was done.

Laura stood up, baffled by it herself. She was going to answer Peter when he doubled over and hurled the contents of his stomach on the pavement.

...

Peter barfed four more times; twice on the side of the road, another two more times in the cab; the driver cursing at them from the front even as Laura assured him she was making sure none of the puke got onto the car seats. 

Once at Peter’s place she arranged his arm around her shoulders. _Same situation as 24 hours ago, different circumstances. _She wanted to laugh at the irony of it if she wasn’t so dogged tired.

She searched his pockets, but his keys were missing, probably fell out when he carried her before she could pummel Flash Thompson in the face.He was unresponsive, giving mumbled sentences to her that were completely irrelevant to their current problem of getting him home in one piece.

“Peter, Peter, listen to me; would Aunt May be awake now?”

“Bruce Banner is the Hulk.”

She sighed wearily. “Yeah no shit, maybe you can reveal a secret identity that no one knows yet?”

He replied something incoherent and she decided it was futile to get him to talk at this point.

Laura held onto him and unsheathed her claws, scaling up the building with him in tow. A bizarre way to sneak someone back into their own home but her life nowadays was interesting that way. She shimmied his bedroom window open with the sharp edge of her foot talons.

Once inside, she laid him down on his bed and unlaced his shoes, pulling them off one at a time. Laura glanced at his face; he’d fallen asleep halfway through the climb to get there. He looked peaceful, an innocent face that could never hurt a fly. _Could never hurt another person like what I did to Kimiko. _Even when she tried to do the right thing, that wasn’t what Peter thought was right too. How was it possible for her to keep screwing up every friendship she had?

She didn’t even know who she was mad at more; herself or him.

Nevertheless; how was she supposed to stay mad at him when he was the only one who knew her secret, and the only person who didn’t look at her like she was a freak for having them?

Laura pulled his blanket over Peter when he stirred. His eyes drew open ever so slightly. “It was my fault Laura...” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. She sat down next to him to listen more closely. 

“What was your fault Peter?”

“I didn’t listen…” he said, his eyes heavy with liquor and fatigue. “We could’ve won, but we didn’t. All of us...everyone we care about would still be here...your mum would still be here.”

She understand what he was trying to say. Did he fight Thanos one-one-one and lost? Is that why the Blip happened? That would be soul-crushing burden for anyone to carry. 

“I don't know what this is supposed to mean." Laura’s bottom lip trembled, tears pricked her eyes, this was too much for her at the end of a long night. "Why are you telling me this?”

His mouth twisted remorsefully, like all the pain he’d been carrying for a year was finally breaking through. “Because I could never tell you the truth when I was sober,” he said. “I’m sorry Laura... fuck—my head is spinning,” he clutched his temples, squeezing his eyes shut. "Why is the room spinning?”

She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand and smoothed the blanket over his chest, tucking him in. “You’ve puked out everything; you just need some sleep. Although I can’t promise the hangover tomorrow won’t be just as worst.”

His eyes were closed, but he smirked to himself, forgetting whatever he’d just told her. “I’ve never been hung-over before...” he whispered. The soft, even breaths followed as sleep took him.


	7. Chapter 7

**Laura**

Sunday morning Riley made waffles for them on her day off work. Laura normally enjoyed these breakfasts but she’d had a lousy weekend and school was tomorrow. Having some time to think about what she did, she realized she was an idiot for starting such a public fight with Flash Thompson. _And kicking his speaker over_. It was going to be talk at school all of next week. She didn’t want to be known as the ‘psycho-girl’ who vandalises property.

_I wasn’t even drunk; I have no excuse for it. Even if I was, I shouldn't have acted out that way. _

Riley was chatting to her from the kitchen, chopping up slices of strawberries while Laura absentmindedly swirled the piece of waffle on her fork in the maple syrup on her plate.

Riley settled a bowl of fruit on the table and sat down adjacent to her, she said something but Laura didn’t catch it.

“Mhm?”

“I said you look upset,” said Riley, stirring sugar into her coffee.

Laura kept her eyes on her plate. “I’m fine, just a little a sleepy.”

She wasn’t convinced; “you’ve been in this mood all weekend." 

“Yeah, maybe I am a little upset,” Laura admitted with a long sigh. “I argued with Peter after the party and I feel bad for not paying attention to his side of things.”

“Maybe reach out to him?” Riley suggested. “He seems like a good kid. If he’s really your friend, he probably wants to talk too.”

Laura put down her fork and leaned on her chair, the party had been such a colossal mess; the fight with Flash, the argument with Peter afterwards, seeing Peter kiss Penelope. That was just the cherry on top of a bad night. It shouldn’t bother her that he kissed her, she’d encouraged it, _I guess I assumed he would listen to what I said about her being a two-faced liar and stay away. _

But most of all, she kept thinking about what he said to her when he was drunk and half-asleep; about it being his fault that her mother was dead.

Laura didn’t know how to say any of this to Riley. “I don’t know.”

“Laura, you know that you can talk to me about anything,” she reached over and held her forearm. “Sometimes I might not pick up on a sad smile but I’m here always.”

“I know.”

“Listen kiddo; I wanted to talk about us.”

Another issue to add to her anxieties. “A conversation about Child Services again, huh,” she grimaced.

“It’s a good thing. Don’t worry,” she said. “Here goes nothing; I want to adopt you.”

Laura stared at her for a moment, unsure if she’d heard it correctly. “Really?”

“Yes. You’re still under 18, and I wanted to make it official,” Riley explained. “Not that it isn’t right now, but things can change in the blink of eye. It's been...more than a year since we lost them and I think you’re happy here, at least I hope you are. I just want what’s best for you. I honestly can’t imagine my life without you." 

For the first time all weekend, she found herself genuinely smiling. “Me too.”

"I know I’m not your mother, and of course I could never replace her—”

Laura sat up and stunned Riley by hugging her. “I love you, for you,” she mumbled into her hair. “You’re my mum too.”

Riley wrapped her arms around her with a light chuckle; “I did not expect to be called mum this soon, I don’t know if that even suits me at all.”

Laura let go and sat back down on her chair, this comforting, warm fuzziness inside her chest. She really was one of the lucky ones.

* * *

**Peter **

He stared at his shoes, psyching himself up to knock on the apartment door. He’d spent all of Saturday wallowing in bed, hung-over, his head feeling heavy, nausea making him retch into the trash can, although nothing came out. Many instances he would stuff his face into his pillow and cringe at a memory from the night before. He told May what happened at Penelope’s party; the fight, the god-awful kiss that he messed up. All she had to say was that apologising to Laura was his top priority before school next week and he had to agree. 

So here he was. He braced himself and knocked on her front door. He waited a beat and a lady with long brown hair and blue eyes opened it.

“Hello.”

“Hi. You must be Peter,” she offered her hand; her posture was ramrod straight and formal just like a cop’s.

“Oh uh—yes that’s right, Sergeant Knight." 

She chuckled lightly, “did Laura tell you to call me that?" 

He flushed, "er no, I just assumed-" 

"I'm kidding, Peter, you can just call me Riley when I'm at home." 

He relaxed a bit and smiled. “Oh yeah of course, um, is Laura around?”

“Yeah she is. Come in,” she held the door open wider for him. “Laura? Someone here for you.”

Laura emerged from a hallway in sweats and a hoodie. “Hey.”

“Do you want something to drink Peter?” Riley offered.

“No—I’m good Sergeant—Riley,” he corrected himself.

With an amused smirk she strolled past Laura. “Okay. Then I’ll leave you two.”

Once they were alone, Laura motioned for them to sit. “How are you?” He asked.

“I’m okay.”

He settled his backpack on the floor and unzipped. “I got you this.”

He handed her a box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch, it was hard to come by with the post-Blip economic crisis and decreasing demand, also way more expensive than cereal should rightly be, but Peter knew how much she liked it.

“My fav," a piece of paper slipped out onto the table. “Is this a card?”

“Oh shi—yeah. It is, it's a card," he scratched his temple nervously, inwardly cringing at himself again. “I meant to throw it out, it kinda sucks.”

Laura opened it up, a huge I’M SORRY was scrawled in the middle above a cartoon drawing of him as Spider-Man and Laura with her claws.

She burst out laughing. “You drew us?”

“It was Aunt May’s idea,” he told her and couldn’t stop the grin that took over his face. “I don’t know why I went along with it, might have been the hangover.”

She smiled at him, and closed the card. “I love it. Thanks, Peter.”

Peter felt more relaxed and settled into his chair. “I came by because I wanted to thank you for taking me home, dealing with me puking everywhere and being an all around shitshow that night. Also a terrible friend. I’m sorry about all of it."

“You would’ve done the same for me,” she said. “Besides, you were right, I shouldn’t have start a fight with Flash. It was reckless. That’s not who I am.”

“No,” he disagreed. “You were right, maybe your methods weren’t something I was cool with, but I agree with standing up for myself; as I should. If I want to stand up for the ideals that I have as Spider-Man, I need to do that in all aspects of my life too.” He knew that with all his heart, it was easier said than done though.

“Peter. I can’t replace Ned for you,” said Laura. “I guess that’s something I’ve been feeling too. I just wanted to tell you that. I know how much you loved him, but I'm nothing like him."

He couldn’t believe that was the impression he gave; it wasn’t true even in the slightest. He’d lost many people he cared about in the Blip but he hadn’t tried to connect with anyone until he met her, that meant something to him, this friendship was important to him. 

“Laura,” he leaned forward. “You’re not a replacement. You’re my friend too, and now that we know pretty much everything there is to know about each other, I don’t want anymore secrets between us.”

She was pleased to hear that. “Okay.”

“Also, I spoke to Mr. Stark,” he told her, the conversation had been out of his comfort zone but he needed to set his boundaries too. “I told him not to expect any reports about you, and if he wants to know what kind of person you are—he can ask you himself.”

She looked worried. “Please don’t tell me Iron Man is going to show up on my doorstep tonight.”

Peter smirked. “Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if he did that.” It was definitely Tony's style to do surprise home visits.

“Not reassuring,” she said and ripped the top of the cereal box open to help herself. 

...

“So... you kissed Penelope?” Laura asked him as they approached the Oscorp building. For most of the afternoon he presumed she’d forgotten about it completely, until now. 

He smacked his forehead, “ugh, I was wondering when you were going to bring that up.”

“I was surprised,” she giggled. “That’s all.”

Talking to someone about that night diminished how mortifying it had actually been, it felt easier to handle. “I hope people forget about that herpes story.”

“Why did it suddenly become herpes?”

“First of, my first kiss was with Melanie Walters, not Groff.” It was at a school dance when he kissed her, their noses had knocked, the sensation was new to him, and he had no idea what he was doing. “Second of all, I got strep throat from her, _not_ herpes.”

“I believe you,” she laughed, very much entertained by his failed romances, and in all realness he’d made peace them too. _Wait till she hears about Liz and the Vulture. _

“So, are you going to ask her out?”

While he found Penelope attractive in addition to plenty of great qualities, he was okay with just admiring her from afar from now on. He was certain he didn’t even have a crush on her anymore after that night, with the spell broken after that kiss. “No. She was upset, and that kiss was in the moment but it felt weird. It wasn’t right,” he still remembered how she squished his face and the way her tongue slipped into his mouth. Maybe he needed to French kiss more people to actually find it appealing to do. “There was way too much lip gloss.”

At Oscorp he managed to sneak Laura to the higher floors where all the labs were located. Peter slipped on his white coat, it was company protocol and the labs were always freezing anyway. They hurried into the genetics lab, it was the weekend, not many people we were working, and everyone had gone off to lunch. Peter started up the computer and popped in Laura’s blood into the analyzer.

“How can a person be made up of so much information?” She remarked in fascination, watching the wide central monitor in the middle of the room identify each strip of gene coded in her genome.

He went to working on de-crypting what he collected from the laboratory the night the portal opened. The Oscorp computers were faster than his laptop and the MidTown Tech computers.

What he found was disheartening.

Peter read and re-read the last report the scientists made before leaving the place. He went over it at least five times. Peter leaned back in the seat, feeling his entire body go numb with shock. At one point he’d stopped responding to Laura on the other side of the room.

“Peter?” She came up to him. "Did you hear what I said, there's one gene I have that matches with Madeline's, it-"

“Madeline’s dead.”

Laura stopped talking and frowned. “How do you know?”

He pushed himself away from the monitor, a cold dread seeping into his bones. He opened and closed his mouth, he couldn’t even articulate it for a moment. “I found the-the latest report before whoever was there left—“ he weakly lifted his arm out to the computer for her to see for herself.

“Madeline Montega,” Laura read out loud. “Subject X-24…. deceased.” She reared her head away from it, slowly shaking her head. “No. No this isn’t real, Peter.”

“It is.”

“The files you downloaded are corrupted or something,” she bit out frustrated, her hands closing into fists at her sides. “This doesn’t mean anything. We just haven’t found her yet and we need to keep trying.”

He wished these were lies they left behind for them but they weren’t. “Karen made sure they were not corrupted.”

“Well then she’s wrong,” she went on in vehement denial. Laura pulled the keyboard to herself as she started to frantically type, he didn’t know what she was searching for but he wasn’t done dropping bombshells on her yet.

“Laura,” he spoke up, trying to find his voice, his throat feeling tight. “I think—I think I killed her.”

“How could you have killed her?”

“According to this—they were keeping her in her mutated-state because when her powers manifested her heart condition became unstable. She had something rare, an extra electrical pathway,” he swallowed the guilt like a stone. “And when I -when I electrocuted her with my webs, it disrupted the conduction in her heart—it killed her. I killed her.” When he was done he caged his head, as the reality of it hit him like a flurry of punches, again and again.

_She’s dead because of me. Me. We’ve been searching all this time for her, for nothing…she was already gone. We couldn’t save her. I couldn’t save her. _

“No, Peter.” Laura crouched down looking up at him, she pried his hands off his face and held onto his arms to force his gaze on her. “We were both there, together. We had no idea there was a person in there. We cannot blame ourselves for what happened, _you _ cannot blame yourself—”

“What are you two doing in here?”

Both of them jolted to stand at the newcomer. Peter quickly shut off the computer monitor, even though the move was not subtle at all.

“Umm we were just—“

“This is the genetics lab, I’m Dr. Smythe’s intern,” he came closer to them and glanced down at Peter’s ID badge. “ Shouldn’t you be up in Robotics?”

“Harry?”

That recognition came from Laura. She stated at him, baffled by his presence there. Harry was a handsome guy, taller than either of them with curly brown hair and dimples in his cheeks.

Harry frowned at her, confused too. “Do I know you?”

“Maybe you should, considering I—_we _saved your life the night of Penelope’s party?”

“I woke up covered with Spider-Man’s webs—by the way those take a really long time to dissolve—“ Harry commented; “afterwards passerbys said that I’d walked out into traffic drunk.”

“Yeah we pulled you out of there and Spider-Man came around and had to tie you down because you wouldn’t listen to us,” Laura fibbed.

“Oh, that makes sense,” said Harry. “Thanks. I appreciate it.” He seemed like he meant it. _He doesn't seem as bad as Penelope's made him out to be. _

“You’re welcome,” replied Laura.

Peter stretched his hand out to introduce himself, “my name’s Peter Parker, and this is Laura.”

“Nice to meet you guys,” he said, “but seriously; you can’t be in here, company rules.”

Peter held up his index finger. “Actually I intern here so I—“

“Okay, then she can’t be here,” Harry gestured at Laura, knowing her she was getting more annoyed by him as the seconds wore on;

Laura squinted at him. “You know you’re kind of rude to people who saved your life? Saved you from your crazy girlfriend.”

Harry scowled; “hey, don’t call her crazy, okay? And I wasn’t trying to be rude-“

“Let me guess, you’re back together again?”

“_Yeah_ and she’s amazing,” stated Harry firmly, with blind loyalty. "So I have no idea why you'd say that." 

From the bits he could remember it was far more complicated than that. “I’ll never understand relationships,” bemoaned Peter, shaking his head.

“Dude, she asked you to walk into traffic and not stop until a car _hit _you and you died—and you still want to be with her?” Said Laura, stunned by his choice. 

“What the heck are you saying, kid? She never said that to me, I’d remember.”

“_Kid?” _Laura guffawed. “You’re not that much older than us, college boy.”

Peter stepped forward like a referee; “okay, guys, enough. Laura I'll walk you out." He looked up at Harry. “I’m sorry for letting her in here, it won’t happen again. Please don’t tell my supervisor.”

Harry waved them off dismissively, “I won’t. Just go on. And—thanks, I mean it,” he added, genuinely. They marched past him when he said, “And if you want to come here and hang out with your boyfriend, at least a wear a white coat next time? Looks less suspicious.” He smirked. 

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Peter and Laura answered him simultaneously as they left.

* * *

**Laura **

They strolled though the expansive modern, lobby of Oscorp, Laura slowed down at a pillar with an ad on it. “Didn’t know Harry Osborn interns at his father’s own company.”

Peter stopped too. “_T__hat _was Harry Osborn?”

She pointed at the pillar, with Norman Osborn posing regally on an ad about Oscorp being the future the city needs in this post-Blip age. _People will gobble that sappiness up won’t they? _

_“_Don’t you see the resemblance?”

He folded his arms and stared at it a little longer. “Huh. You’re right.”

What Laura knew was that Harry had been kicked out of multiple private schools, she had to wonder how he even got into college. _Daddy must have pulled some strings, or he was a legacy acceptance. _“It makes sense now, I’m surprised that Penelope doesn’t want to let him go.” _She’s dating the heir to a billion-dollar company. “_Not to mention, he was kinda cute."

Peter scowled as they exited the building. “He left her party like an asshole.”

Laura shrugged. “Some girls are into rich douchebags.” She turned to him, more serious now. **“**Peter if what you said was real, if Madeline is really dead. What do we do?” Laura wished she could toughen up and focus to find the answers, but she relied on Peter; he had at least two years more experience doing this hero stuff and the smarts to get them through this.

“We still have to find her,” he said, with hard look. “For her mum, if anything else.“

His watch piece started to bleeped. He lifted his wrist and swiped through it, the colour draining from his face. “Oh God, oh god. The energy spike from the portal; it’s back.”

Gusts of wind formed abruptly, her hair flying up. It was a cloudy day with grey skies, and they were to expect rain, but this was unnatural. Newspapers, stray bits of trash were blown up. She noticed they were all being drawn in the same direction; upwards.

It was just as nightmarish as the first time. The portal started to form 300 feet above them, the yellow-grey storm clouds circumscribing a dark abyss in the center. Lightning strikes shot out of it, hitting the skyscraper windows, shattering their glass. Scared citizens were screaming and running to safety in every direction. Laura had half a mind to run with them.

“Did you bring your suit?”

“I always have it on me,” Peter hastily tugged his white coat off. “You?”

“Nope, I’m going to have to DIY this disguise again,” she ripped up some of her scarf and wrapped it around the lower half of her face, taking off her jacket. She really needed to work on an upgraded hero-outfit.

She waited for the black ink monster to spill out of it again, but it wasn’t that this time.

Tall, robotic beings flew out, silvery scales on their body, humanoid in shape with glowing orange eyes. It descended and planted onto the middle of the street. Laura’s mouth dropped open.

Peter reappeared from changing in the alley into his Iron-Spider suit. “Holy crap what is that?!" He shrieked.

Laura was scared for her life, but she pushed past those fears. Peter wrapped his arm around her waist and hoisted them up through the air.

“We fighting terminators this time?” She called to him.

“Ay you watched the movie—!“ He quipped cheerily, totally inappropriate for the moment, but that was his style. He dropped her as Laura’s claws unsheathed and sunk into the robot’s neck. Peter went high after the next one that emerged from the portal, webs’ on it's face, tugging and spinning it around to slam it onto the side of a building. 

The one she fought punched her in the gut, throwing her off. It's silver scales glimmered with the light, eyes bright as two orange flames. Laura backflipped, her claws making sparks on the tarmac as she slowed her landing. She charged for it again. The robot picked up a car with ease and chucked it at her; she rolled beneath it. The next car came and she cut it down through the middle, then leaped through it’s window landing on the other side of it. She ripped off the car door and threw it like a frisbee at the robot. It momentarily stumbled rearwards but it did not deter it's advance. 

Laura kicked into it’s chest and it toppled over skidding across the ground, she stayed on top of it; slicing again and again into it but the scales kept reforming no matter what dent she made. It took her hits like they were nothing. It fought back, punched her sideways and sent her flying off crashing into a lamppost that snapped in two on impact. She lied on the ground catching her breathe. The ground rumbled and she hopped back onto her feet as another robot joined it’s comrade. Both of them, 12 feet tall and stepping menacingly for her.

_Oh shit. _

She lifted the lamppost and swung at the first one that came after her, then again at the next, swatting them like flies. Then she cut the lamppost in half as a make-shift- giant sword. The first robot got up once more. At this point she’d lost track of which was which; she was just fighting for her life.

She drove the sharper end of the lamppost into the nearest one. As she was about to deal with the other, she saw the swing too late as it socked her in the face. The street cracked where she landed with a resounding thud. It loomed over her and it hit her again. She saw black dots in her vision, blood flying out of her mouth. It struck her other cheek and she could barely see, her ears ringing. Laura rolled as it’s fist hit the ground instead of her head. She cut into it’s arm, but as she did, it started to ascend taking her with it.

* * *

**Peter **

Peter was up near the 15th story of Oscorp. There were five robots in total, no more coming, _but more than the two of us can handle._

He aimed a web at the robot, but it caught it and yanked him forward. It then chucked Peter so hard he flew through the glass windows of Oscorp and out the other side. Peter hissed and propelled himself around to the front of the building. “Activate instant kill mode!”

His spider-legs on his suit popped out and all six impaled a robot mid-air. Skewering it to the wall. He lifted it up and shoved it against the wall over and over again, trying to shatter it to pieces. He thought he’d had it, until it pounded through the spider-legs breaking each one like a twig. Peter started to fall and had to catch himself. His mind raced to find another tactic. He didn’t understand what they wanted; they weren’t trying to destroy anything in the city or go after anyone, it seems like they came here just to fight them specifically. The fifth robot was higher than the rest, and he wanted to go after it if he wasn’t preoccupied with fighting the others.

He heard Laura screaming through their shared comm. The robot she fought was soaring up, taking her with it. She had her claws shoved into its torso as it fisted a handful of her shirt. Before he could take off to get her, the robot’s fist formed two claws on it’s free hand, which eerily looked exactly like hers—

Peter could only watch in horror as it drove the claws through her neck and out the top of her head.

“LAURA!”

At that moment, he dived down as fast as he could when the robot dropped her. Peter caught her in his arms and settled them down into an alley away from the chaos. He pulled her into his arms, taking off the scarf covering her mouth, she wasn’t moving, eyes closed. There was so much blood everywhere on her shirt, blood on his hands. Peter’s nanite mask came off. He carded his fingers through her hair, and shook her shoulders, pleading for her to wake up.

“Laura,” he sobbed, “no, please no,” he pressed his forehead to hers, as the grief and agony took a giant bite of his chest.

Suddenly, Peter stopped breathing as he heard a faint heartbeat, getting louder and louder. He lifted his head and watched the wound on her neck seal up, the skin was clean and unscathed. In the next second Laura’s eyes flew open and she gasped for air. Peter jaw hung open and he dropped her like a hot potato. At first she seemed confused, then shocked, and then she tilted her head up to the sky, rage taking over.

“Holy fuck,” he breathed, eyes wide as pennies. “I thought you were dead.”

She didn’t register his presence until that moment and her eyes locked with his. “Me too.” Her hand flew to her neck to make sure she was healed. He helped her stand up, her arm over his shoulders. “These asshole robots. Do they all have claws like me? He didn't have them at the beginning." 

“Not interested in finding out,” he muttered through gritted teeth. “So far it’s just the one.”

Laura peered at him, a helpless look in her eyes. “Peter I don’t know if we can do this, if I can do this. They're too strong."

He felt that same helplessness in his heart too, how the weight of it threatened to drag them both down. He wanted to pray for someone else to do this instead, anyone else, just this one time, but there was no one else. “We have to keep going,” he said to her, although he didn’t know if he even believed that was possible without killing either of them. But he had no other choice but to believe they could do this, with the odds stacked so high against them. T_his couldn’t be like Titan,_ he couldn’t take another failure, he was determined to fight.

“They need us.” He limped over to the pavement, Peter’s knee brace had shattered when the robot took his leg and threw him.

“Check out that one, it’s not fighting,” he pointed at the fifth robot nearest the portal and her gaze followed it. It hovered in the air, unmoving as if it was watching the chaos unfold. “I think it might be controlling the others. It’s bigger and has enough space in it’s heard for a mini control room according to Karen's measurements. If we can send it back into the portal, maybe the rest will follow.”

“That’s a big if,” she said doubtfully.

“We have to try."

“You need to stop the others,” said Laura. “Throw me to it.”

His protective instinct had never been stronger than it was in that moment. He wrapped his hand around her wrist. “I’m not letting you go up there alone, not after I almost lost you.”

She looked to him empathetically before her rationality took over. “I know, but you can cover more ground and take them down one by one to protect everyone,” she argued. “If that’s the mother-robot I need to get on it to do any real damage.”

He hated it, he really hated it, but she was right. Peter breathed in deeply, readying himself for the next onslaught. “Okay,” he nodded, and they stepped onto the pavement for round two, the wind was picking up, Laura’s hair blowing everywhere.

“Wait, I have an idea!” He exclaimed. 

Peter swung higher and broke through the windows of Oscorp, scientists screaming and ducking as he ran through the Robotics lab.

“Sorry! Sorry! Excuse me, sorry!” He grabbed onto the prototype his supervisor had been working on. He held it up to the nearest terrified lab tech, pointing at it enthusiastically; “just going to borrow this for a sec!” He gave them a thumbs up and dashed back out.

* * *

**Laura **

She replayed it in her head; those claws forming on the robot’s fist, and then when they drove into her. Laura shuddered. _I should be dead. _

Peter came up to her and handed her a small backpack. **“**A prototype jetpack I was working on, in case you fall and I can't reach you in time. Just to be sure. Also; take the spider-drone it'll hack into the robots controls.” He handed both to her. 

“Thanks.” She put the jetpack on, pocketed the drone, and hooked her arm over Peter’s shoulder’s. She didn't have a second to digest how awesome a jetback was as they took off. 

Together they sailed higher and higher, the windspeed stronger nearest the portal , nearly sucking them in into it's darkness.

“Now!”

Peter let go of her and she dived downwards, claws first. She crashed through the window panel of the robot’s head, finding herself in a cramped pilot’s room. She waited for the robot to try and attack her for invading it. 

‘_Control room breached, control room breached,’ _an automatic voice droned on at her. _Okay not so bad, we can do this. _

Just in her line of vision she saw an engraving; like what you’d find on an electrical product;

_Alpha_

_Sentinel Mark III _

_Trask Industries _

Laura didn't know if Trask meant anything, but she mentioned it to Peter as she scanned the various buttons on the interface. “It’s some kind of piloting system,” she told Peter.

_“Stick the the spider-drone in!” _Peter instructed as handled four other robots by himself. “_Okay we’re in. Laura do you see a button under the control panel. Switch it to go down." _

She did so and the automated voice went; _‘Autolock-disabled.’ _

_“Now turn the robot to the correct angle towards portal and set the thrusters. Hurry! I can't hold them off. Get out of there as soon as possible, or you’ll end up going through with it.” _

Laura steered it to turn and she faced the portal head on, staring into it like the dark eye of a hurricane.

“Is there brakes on this thing?” She shouted herself, fearing the robot was going to be pulled through by the sheer force of the wind. 

Something latched onto the outside of the mother-robot and caused the entire control room to tilt on a steep axis. Laura smacked into the side of it. The robot that had tried to killed her was hanging onto it peering inside at her.

_“_Oh fuck!”

It punched through and Laura ducked as it impaled the seat she was sat on. “Peter it’s attacking me!” She yelled as it continuously clawed through trying to reached for her. She blocked it once or twice but it was destroying and slashing through he control room, sparks flying. Peter was shouting into the comms to her but she couldn’t pay attention.

With a surge of inspiration she hit series of buttons;

_‘Search and destroy protocol disabled. Beta, Kappa, Psi, Delta Sentinels locked on Alpha.’ _

Laura clambered forward and pulled the lever down to set the thrusters. On activation of the thrusters, she was thrown backwards as the power of the engine rushed the mother-robot, and subsequently Laura— through the portal.

* * *

**Peter **

“Laura get out of there!” He yelled, as the robots started to leave. “No, no, no!” He cried, and flung himself up latching onto the last robot as it took him with it on its ascent following it's leader. 

When he thought he’d really lost her for good; the portal spat her back out. Laura was using the jetpack prototype to fly down, but the navigation was a bit choppy and she crash landed onto a roof top. He released his hold on his web and peered over his shoulder as the last robot disappeared through the portal and the damn thing finally closed. 

He got down nearby Laura as the strong winds settled. He half-limped, half sprinted to her. She was sitting on an AC unit, the jetpack wrecked next to her feet, but that was the least of his concerns.

“Laura! Laura, are you okay?” He stopped a few feet from her, out of breathe.

She visibly winced, folding her arms over her chest; “y-yeah.”

His mask dissolved off, and he wiped the sweat in his eyes. They won. Both of them, no adults, no Avengers; _this was us. _

Peter threw his arms up in celebration. “We did it!” He went lower, attempting to hug her but she lifted her arm up to stop him.

“Whoa, whoa, slow down there.”

He retracted his arms and straightened, running his fingers through his hair, embarrassed. “Oh sorry, I didn’t realize you—“

“It’s not about the hug,” she said, mustering a half smile to him. “That kind of stuff doesn’t make me uncomfortable, it’s just...I have about 6 broken ribs, a bruised liver and dislocated shoulder, so a hug would be a really bad idea at the moment.”

He was relieved that he wasn’t making a fool of himself on purpose. “Yeah, you’re right,” he seated himself next to her. “Doesn’t mean I can’t sit next to you, and make sure you don’t puncture a lung.”

She gave him a warm smile. “That would work.”

After a moment the broken ribs started to mend and the creases of a pain across her features began to subside, although he couldn’t say the same for her left shoulder that looked a bit lower set compared to her right.

“I’m sorry about the jetpack,” she said.

“Eh, maybe I’ll get fired for letting Oscorp property get stolen, but I don’t care at this point,” he poked at it. They fell into a comfortable silence processing what had just happened. He noticed that Laura was hugging herself and staring at the skies as if waiting for the portal to return— but there wasn’t fear on her features, she looked extremely confused like there was a puzzle up there she was trying to solve.

“What is it?” He asked her.

“Did the sky change?” 

“No,” he replied, equally as puzzled as she was now. “You went through it didn’t you? The portal?" 

She pressed her lips together and nodded.

“What did you see on the other side?” He was afraid to hear the answer, but a part of him was giddy with childish excitement.

“It wasn’t a portal to space,” replied Laura slowly, her voice lower, she lifted her eyes to him. “I saw a sunset over a city, it was beautiful.”

That was not at all the answer he was expecting.

“A sunset?” He reiterated, perplexed by the idea of it. He peered up at the skies, it was a gloomy October, city haze, grey clouds and smoke was all he ever expected in New York—not golden sunsets that could take your breath away.

“Was it New York?”

“I want to say yes, but I don’t know, Peter. I mean, it can’t be. _This_ is home, and they attacked us here. How can that be New York, too? God, I don’t know—“ she gave up speculating and massaged her temples instead.

Peter thought about it for long moment. He wasn’t sure if the theory forming in his head was fucking scary or amazing, but it was there;

“Laura, this is going to sound crazy but…have you ever heard of the multiverse?”

* * *

**So glad I could finally get to the twist I've been writing towards. Thanks for stopping by to read! **


	8. Chapter 8

**Just a note I have never been to American schools so everything I know is based on some googling and years of Hollywood high school movies lol **

**Thank you for all your kind comments. To answer; I do have plans on getting Laura and Peter together, but so far I really like them as friends, so we'll see how the story progresses. **

* * *

**LAURA **

“Think about it.”

Peter was gesticulating, pacing the ten feet length of his tiny room in his Spider-Man suit.

Laura sat on his desk, her feet on his study chair. Her hair was an abject mess after being tossed around like a ragdoll, beaten literally half to death by the Sentinels. His neighbor’s cat, Marbles, sat next to her, licking its paw. She had yet to ask him what the heck the cat was doing here, or if it belonged to him, but she couldn't get a word in edgewise. They watched him as he went into crazy-conspiracy theory mode breaking out a white board and markers. It started with the term ‘multiverse’ and spiraled from there.

“How come no one has come to this conclusion?" He demanded into the air, a manic look coming over him. "When Thanos used the infinity stones it caused some rip in the barrier between different universes.” He drew a bunch of circles on the white board, balancing it on his stomach to prop it upright for her. “They all exist at the same time, but they’re oscillating at different frequencies too fast for us to see.” He made a few squiggles then shoved the whiteboard at her, she took it from him and continued his restless pacing.

“Rips suggest a kind of disruption in the integrity in the veil between the universes,” he said, talking almost too fast for her to follow. “Thanos, this insane, giant, purple, scrotum—carried out his super- evil plan to ‘balance’ our universe, but maybe that caused an _imbalance_ across the entire multiverse! Don't you see how it changes everything?"

Laura glanced down at the cat, it meowed back at her. They were both concerned. She was still stuck in a filmy daydream. Peter fought aliens, and evil machines at least a year before her, up until very recently she was hunting petty thieves that stole from corner shops. The things that belonged to his world were was still raw, and new and surreal for her. Not to mention she'd _travelled_ across time and space. 

“You said the scans showed gamma rays and magnetar fields, that suggest it’s a black hole,” she said, rubbing her eyes. Peter staring elsewhere holding his chin like a scientist in deep thought. “I don’t think they work that way. Something with that kind of magnetic field should have disintegrated me to molecules.”

He turned a sharp 90 degrees. “But why would there be a sunset and New York city on the other side of that thing?” He threw his arm out at his window.

“I don’t understand what I saw, okay?” She replied, unnerved. The cat bumped it's head onto her forearm and purred, amidst the craziness of today the normalcy of a house pet was comforting. 

“You were in that portal for less than 20 seconds and it took you that brief amount of time to travel from our universe to the next.”

“Say these are in fact portals; then that suggests versions of our home exists,” she replied. “That means versions of people we know too, maybe even versions of us. Do we really want to mess with that?” It was exciting for Peter but it wasn't exciting for her. She shivered to think about what would have happened if she hadn't fallen into her home world, if the portal has closed behind her back, and she was lost forever. 

“They’re messing with _us, _aren’t they?” He exclaimed. “Holy shit there’s another me out there,” he finally stopped moving, his eyes wide and distant, and plopped onto his bed. “What if there’s an evil Peter Parker? An evil me?”

“What about the portal where the black-ink monster came out of?” Said Laura, straightening, worry creeping over her. “What universe is that coming from? And what if it comes back? What about those ‘Sentinels’ and Trask Industries?”

“They don’t exist _here _in our Earth,” he used both index fingers to point adamantly at the ground empathising ‘here.’ “That’s the only explanation, Laura.”

“So are the people who experimented on Madeline the same people who made these portals, or are they popping up randomly and are unrelated?" The inability to make sense of what was happening was frustrating to her. For once she wished her problems were as reductive and blunt as math, where only one answer was correct. 

“As far as I can tell; they’re appearing wherever we are, trying to kill us,” he said. “We have a shit-ton of data on the black hole to analyse, this is so cool.” He lifted his watch and started swiping through video files and lines and lines of code that could fill every wall in his apartment. He was radiating with bright enthusiasm at this side project of his.

Quite the opposite, Laura clutched her forehead, the pulse on against her temple beating hard against her fingertips. “Okay, as scientifically groundbreaking as all of this is,” she said tiredly, knowing Peter would get carried away with it. “We don’t know; when they’re show gonna show up, what’s going to come out of them, or how to stop them.” She counted it off on her fingers, and it was a lot to deal with. "Is this the best way to approach this?" 

“We need to go back to Oscorp and use their computers.” He sprung up and his Iron-spider suit disassembled, his upper body and torso exposed.

“Peter!” She exclaimed and used the whiteboard to cover her eyes. Although if she were being completely honest; Peter shirtless was a pretty enjoyable sight for a second.

“Sorry! Sorry!” He said and she heard him rummaging around for a shirt.

“Peter?” There was a knock on the door and Aunt May’s voice, the door swung open. “Honey, are you—”

She lowered the whiteboard and saw Aunt May glancing between them, stunned. Laura knew how it looked.

His head was obscured by his sweater, but he quickly pulled the rest of it over his abs, blushing red as a tomato from beck to trouser's elastic. “Aunt May I—we—”

“Um science project stuff,” Laura flipped the whiteboard to show Aunt May his incomprehensible scribbles.

She cleared her throat and threw them an awkward smile; “Oh okay...dinner’s ready. You’re welcome to join us, Laura.”

After she wandered off to the dining room, Peter handed Laura one of his t-shirts that read ‘_May the F=MA be with you_,’ on the front, the geekiest shirt she'd ever seen someone actually own. Then again, he had a rotation of six geeky shirts he wore to school. 

“For the blood stains,” he said, waving at her chest. 

She looked down and saw the dark red on her grey shirt from where the Sentinel stabbed her. It was crusted and sticky, the iron-tang of blood hit her nostrils.

“Good call.” 

* * *

**PETER **

He desperately needed a shower and sleep, although he didn’t think that would come. His mind was buzzing all throughout dinner. Ideas formed in his mind embryonically, shapes, formulas, visions of his what could possibly exist in his alternate universe. Would he have any evil twin? Would technology be more advanced there? Or decades behind? Did they have their own version of Avengers? Would he and Ned be friends? 

_Ned. _Would Ned be alive?

But it wouldn't be _his _Ned. It wasn't the same. 

With his head overflowing with ideas, his leg was restless beneath the table. Laura had to kick his shin for him to return to reality. Not that he needed her support in small talk with Aunt May, she was a natural at it, though she didn't think so herself. 

After Laura left, they tidied the dining table, Aunt May passing him a plate to dry.

“Does she know?” May asked him stoically, not peering up from the sink. She was always been friendly and warm, the cool aunt, tool a laid-back approach to raising Peter. Even after she found out about Spider-Man, she trusted him. But after the Blip she had increasingly solemn, quiet, parenting moments. _Part of growing up in an apocalypse,_ he'd concluded. 

“Yeah, she does.”

“Do you trust her?”

“Yeah.” He didn't mention that Laura was the hero with the claws working alongside him. It wasn’t his secret to tell, and she may have figured it out already. She only needed to compare Youtube footage of their Sentinel battle with the outfit Laura wore at dinner. _Also the fact that we hang out all the time now. _

“Sweetie, if you want to have a girl over in your room—”

He groaned in annoyance, tilting his head to the ceiling. “Are you for real—”

“You need to tell me first and keep the door open. Peter. Rules are rules.”

“You’ve never made _that_ rule before.” _May just _had t_o walk in when I was changing with Laura in the room. _

“Well I’m making it now, there’s a first time for everything,” she said, in a tone that warranted no talk-back. “So what happened today? At Oscorp. I was trying to avoid the topic with Laura here but it was killing me." 

He explained to her the bits he was willing to tell her. If she knew too much she would freak out. Like the battle with Thanos, this wasn’t what he usually dealt with whilst being Spider-Man.

“Peter, you need to tell Mr. Stark about this,” said May, extremely concerned when he was done. “First you went to space, which I was _not_ okay with—and now you’re dealing with murderous robots? What if this is Ultron and Sokovia all over again, you saw what happened to that country!"

“This isn’t Ultron. I know you think I need Stark’s help, but—this is something I need to do on my own, alright?” Said Peter. He couldn’t call Mr Stark whenever things became complicated, besides, Stark trusted him to be Spider-Man independently after the Vulture. He was going to do just that. He fumbled on Titan, but he could prove to everyone he could still do this.

“Plus I have back-up. I’m good.”

She tisked disapprovingly; “some vigilante with knives in a crappy mask and Guns N Roses t-shirt?”

“It’s claws,” he muttered, stacking the plates, “and they’re working on a proper costume.” That was in fact not true, but he needed to bring it up with Laura eventually.

“That’s something Stark could help you with, isn’t it?” She sighed, looking at him above her glasses, a mixture of wisdom, concern, affection. It was hard to argue with that look. “Sweetie, I think it’s great that you’re not doing this by yourself, but sometimes teams don’t work out, no matter how hard we try to make them do so. You need to know if you can rely on her, if you know she has your back, if she will be there for you when you need her the most, especially considering the risks you're already taking just by being out there. I don't want to see anyone get hurt.”

“I can, and she does have my back." 

“This is our second chance at life and I just want you to be safe.”

...

Madeline’s death grew and advanced through his mind like tumour. He tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep. _I didn't mean to kill her, it was an accident, I didn't mean to kill her. I'm sorry, I'm sorry. _He chanted to himself, taking deep breaths. The nightmare morphed into a different scene, Laura falling through the sky, like an angel with their wings plucked. A shot of cold horror in his veins. The slick blood all over her t-shirt as he held her, the boundless silence when he could not hear a heartbeat, the rollercoaster of emotions he felt when she gasped back to life, as if she was merely shaken from a nightmare. At one point in the night, he woke groggily and wanted to text Laura to ask if she could get any rest, but felt pathetic and chose not too.

The next day, he skipped homeroom and the first two periods with the excuse he was sick. Instead, he went on patrol. He shouldn’t have, but he did. He needed it. He knew he was rolling back into habits he promised Aunt May and Mr. Stark he would stop; skipping classes to be Spider-Man, going on patrol longer than he should. Up until now, he was good, better even. Unfortunately he was going to have to disappoint them just this once. He needed to let off some steam.

On his own, without Laura, not dealing with threats such as inter-dimensional portals and Sentinels; not much changed with the crime in New York. Criminals he thought he put away forever were back on the streets, the same thefts kept happening in the same hotspots. It felt routine and tiresome at some points. Karen’s feedback afterwards moved the dial to reduce crime only a fraction—all of these factors annoyed him more than it rightly should. The tension twisting up inside of him like a wound coil.

He made it to the latter half of the school day, mostly kept to himself. His laughs felt strained. Even though he said he'd stand up to Flash, people still snickered about his whole herpes scandal from Penelope's party as he passed their lockers. The downside of Spider-senses was picking up on that crap. Laura kept the conversation light, bought him a Snickers bar during lunch, and passed him her notes for the classes he missed. She respected that he needed some time to work through his guilt, she understood that easily. 

Even though they had other friends outside of their duo, their loyalty, confidence, was always towards one another. It was never explicitly stated, just assumed. Which made the friendship even better. 

As the days passed, besides being Spider-Man, his task of getting to the bottom of the blackhole—literally— was consuming his free time. It also worked to distract him from his guilt-ridden nightmares. Laura tried to help, but he assured her he knew what he was doing (even though it was all just a shot in the dark for him). He missed two school assignments, and had to copy Laura’s homework, something he never did, which appalled even her.

But there wasn’t any time for high school; he needed to push himself to cover as much data as possible. Peter convinced himself it was worth it; sacrificing his sleep, staying up late on his bed with his computer rested on his lap, too much coffee, these were vital extra minutes going through a few lines of code that could bring them closer to figuring out what happened to Madeline and others like her.

On Saturday at his Oscorp internship, Peter ran and re-ran simulations for his supervisor; Dr. Randall. He never showed up to the Robotics lab, but sent Peter detailed emails and critics on his work. Most days it was just inputting data into statistical analysis software (essentially mundane work Dr Randall preferred _not_ to do—and Peter didn’t blame him for that), which occasionally made him want to gauge his own eyes out in boredom.

He rested his cheek on his fist mindlessly watching the computer screen. There were no new portals, no Sentinels, and Trask Industries didn't exist on their Earth as he confirmed with Karen on a second search. He had an algorithm going to determine the exact depth of the multiverse portal—a feat that had taken him three days to figure out—it was running in the background. He would much rather be working on that, than be his non-existent supervisor’s little bitch.

“Peter Parker.”

He sat up straighter, hoping it wasn’t actually Dr Randall deciding to show up for once. He peered behind and saw Harry Osborn stroll into the lab. One hand in the pocket of his chinos, his hair coiffed effortlessly, easily the most good-looking person in the building. 

“Oh, hi Harry.” Since they properly met, they’d grabbed lunch once, on Harry's invitation as a thank-you. The Oscorp cafeteria needed repairs after Spider-Man was launched through it. Peter made no comment on that.

“Where’s Laura today?” 

“Track team meet.”

“And you’re not on the track team, too?”

“That’s more of her thing,” said Peter, “she’s my best friend but we’re not joined at the hip.” _Best friend, _it had been a while since he said that and it didn’t feel like he was still mourning.

Harry leaned on the desk with a sly grin. “Question; does your supervisor know you’re using company computers for personal reasons?”

Peter’s eyes went round. “It’s not what you think.”

“What do you think I think it is?”

“Porn?”

Peter could hear everyone who knew he was Spider-Man let out one long exasperated sigh at how terrible he was at keeping his secret.

Harry burst into surprised laughter. “That would actually be less concerning.” He plugged a pendrive into the computer, a playback of the portal simulation Peter had processed came on. “What are you doing with data on a blackhole? Particularly the blackhole that showed up outside Oscorp last weekend?" 

He held what he prayed was a straight-face. “Nothing. My science fair project is about black holes, thought it would be cool to add in current events."

Harry quirked a brow up; “I see, and do you realize that combing through this data might take up a decade of your life?”

_I did. _“Yeah, but it’s just for fun.”

“Mhm,” Harry folded his arms. “And fun also includes letting our prototype jetpack get stolen?”

Peter snickered uncomfortably. “Oh Harry, now you’re just making stuff up.”

“Am I?” He countered. “Because the _only_ person who was working on that in this lab on a Sunday could’ve been you. Dr Randall wasn’t here, and you have the access code to get into the prototype room.”

A nervous sweat formed on Peter’s neck, _I am so getting fired_. “I can explain—”

“How long have you been working for Spider-Man?” Harry cut him off, startling Peter.

“What? Uh—that’s not—”

“Come on,” Harry was persistent. “I’ve figured it out this far haven’t I?”

Marginally relieved, but no less anxious, he cocked his head in agreement. “Er...yeah, I don’t think you’re quite there yet—but yeah I was helping Spider-Man and his hero-friend.”

“Aha!” Harry snapped his fingers at him. “I figured it out! That’s the only explanation. I knew it!”

“So... am I going to get fired?” He asked, uneasily, like bracing for the blow of a punch.

As Harry came down from his little celebration he waved his hand through the air. “Nah man, I ain’t a snitch,” he smacked Peter on the back in that bro-manner. “Come on, I wouldn’t do that to you, I know people go through a lot to get this internship. Forget about the jetpack, it helped the city when those freaky robots attacked, that’s way more important.”

Peter figured that if a ten million dollar prototype was wrecked because he let it go missing, he deserved at least a slap on the wrist—but apparently he wasn’t getting one at all.

“Wow, thanks, that’s a relief,” he said, relaxing. “So I suppose Harry Osborn doesn’t need an entrance interview to intern here?”

His smile faltered, then he sighed wearily.

“Don’t dodge the question now,” said Peter, smirking.

“Is it that obvious?” He lamented, combing his fingers through his thick brown hair.

“The least you could do is add a fake surname instead of just going by ‘Harry.’” Peter pointed at his nametag. “Also you paid for lunch that day with a platinum credit card, not to mention you and your dad do look like photocopies of each other.”

“That’s what the press says,” he motioned for Peter to stand up. “Come on. Being Norman Osborn’s kid must have it’s perks right? I think I can fix your blackhole problem.”

They went to the lower floors, built deep underground. “This floor is restricted access,” he said as they stepped out of the elevator after a lengthy descent. 

“Not for me,” said Harry as they walked along the corridor that was excavated from the stone, lit every few paces by LED lights set in wall sconces. "The processor in the server room is more powerful than the desktops upstairs, you can crunch the numbers ten times faster here."

"Wow that would actually help. Are you sure about this?"

"You're cool Peter, and helluva smarter than I am. I think you're onto something with that algorithm you made. It'd be criminal if I didn't help."

Peter smiled, he was much nicer than he expected. “This might be a little personal... but why are you hiding the fact that you’re Norman Osborn’s son?” 

“Because it’s hard,” he said, and then bit his lip, realizing how that might sound to anyone who wasn’t the heir to a billion dollar company. “It’s not something I’d—I mean look, if you’re gonna roll your eyes at the ‘privilege’ thing, you’re welcome too, I get that a lot and I—”

Peter had no intention of making the guy feel bad about it; he wasn’t that kind of person. “I think I get it,” he said. “The weight of everyone’s expectations is too much.” Being Spider-Man, he knew that well, from literally having the fate of the entire universe counting on him. He also knew how much it could destroy him. He was still trying to pick himself back up for it.

“You have your future sorted, but it’s still a lot to live up to,” he couldn’t imagine having to fill in the gigantic shoes of someone that millions of people looked up to and depended on to pioneer the next generation of scientific minds. In addition to holding onto the responsibility of a billion dollar empire that hired thousands of employees.

“Yeah,” Harry nodded, giving him an easy smile. “It’s just how you described it. My dad was ‘punishing’ me by making me do this gig part-time—so I won’t fuck up college, and of course to have eyes on me. But now I respect his decision. I think about what happened the night you guys pulled me off the street...and it’s for the best. Except here, I’m just the boss’ kid. No one takes me seriously. Well, except you.”

After the weekend Peter had, having to cope with what happened to Madeline— he was glad he was making someone’s life a little easier.

“Seems like you know what you’re doing, Harry.”

* * *

**LAURA**

Laura started off a bit slow, but she was powering through the last leg of the 5KM training run. She could hear the cheers of her teammates behind her as neared the imaginary finish line where Coach Harries waited, crouched down; butt a foot off the ground, eyeing his stopwatch. He sprung up, whistle in his mouth, whooping in victory when she crossed the finish line in record time. 

“That was fantastic, Kinney!”

She threw him a thumbs up as she pretended to catch her breathe. She peered around the park, the familiar trees she would scramble up in the night and jump off of. She would take running a few miles around the park any day over fighting robots from another Earth. Penelope gave her an icy look a few minutes later when she finished. She surpassed her weeks ago as top runner on the team. The more subtle aspects of her powers had come to good use.

She rubbed her neck, sometimes the phantom pain of the Sentinel driving it's claw in to her throat would ghost over her, even though there wasn't even a scratch to bear the memory of her near-death experience. She scarcely had any recollection of it, other than seeing the Sentinel’s claws form— and then walking up in Peter’s arms afterwards. The first few days Peter kept asking if she was okay, and she truly was, she had never felt more alive in her entire life.

"Technically you died," Peter had pointed out earlier today.

"Actually I didn't."

She would never say it to Peter, but when she thought about the close-calls she survived, how she ran faster than anyone else on her team with minimal effort, she felt invincible. It was a dangerous feeling, she knew if she was not careful, one day she would test her limits too far, and not wake up again. 

After practice she rushed to last period History, making it in time before facing Mrs Rowena’s wrath. Peter was on the opposite end of the room, doodling in his notebook. After class she caught up with him.

“Whoa, nice jacket,” remarked Peter, with irony and some surprise, at her new varsity jacket. It was white, blue and gold of the school colours. She felt like the jocks she used to despise in her old school, _until I sort of became one. _

“Thanks.” She actually loved the jacket and had this stupid giddy sense belonging when she first put it on. "You know you could get one too, you could try out for any team and easily get in. Maybe gymnastics?"

He snorted. "No thanks, I have way too many extracurriculars as it is." He always shot down the idea when she brought it up. He had a weird aversion to the team sports of the school, and made the exception to come to her track meets because they were friends. She never understood it, but did not push him on it.

“Ms Kinney, Mr Parker, a word,” Mrs Rowena’s stern voice halted them as they passed her desk.

Once the classroom emptied, Rowena took out their copybook’s, fixing her glasses on the bridge of her nose;

“I am not sure who’s copying who, but this cannot happen again,” she opened their copybooks to the homework assignment from this week.

Laura’s eyes peered guiltily down at the desk, and then shifted to Peter. She couldn’t read his expression; he looked partly annoyed, like he couldn’t care less that Rowena accused them of plagiarism. Peter had copied her homework, but Laura didn't think he would do it word for word. 

“You asked us to find the answers from the assigned reading,” Peter, challenged her, blank-faced. “Sometimes the answers might look the same, how is that an issue?” Laura widened her gaze at him, wondering what came over him, a simple ‘sorry it won’t happen again,’ would’ve sufficed.

“Mr Parker you’ve had a history of turning up your assignments late, occasionally with no effort at all, this past year. The school is concerned, and rightly so,” she replied, soft and firm, surprisingly patient and less scary than she was in class. “You’re an A+ student, Mr Parker, and your work should reflect that. You can come to me and ask me any questions you may have, or speak with the counselor, we’re here for you.”

“That is so helpful, it won’t happen again, Mrs. Rowena. Thanks!” Laura said quickly, nudging Peter’s arm and they were dismissed.

“Are you okay? I wasn’t expecting that.” She squeezed his bicep as they walked towards the gym for the pep rally. He was quieter this week, still upset over Madeline. His lips were pressed together to muster a smile and a small nod. The fight with the Sentinels had been rough on both of them, mentally. 

“I’m fine, just a hiccup,” he was clearly not in the mood to discuss academics. “Are we still on for patrol after this?” Peter asked, since being Spider-Man interested him more nowadays. It was nearly a week since they last went out together as their hero personas, preferring do their crime stopping independently. The only lead they had on their main case was the blackhole, which he insisted on figuring out himself.

“Yeah of course.”

At the gym, the pep rally was in full swing, the bleachers packed. Laura squeezed at the end of a bench next to Peter, half her butt almost falling off. She watched MidTown’s cheer team do their routine in the middle of the court, the drums and horns from the yellow and white uniformed marching band in the corner.

She spotted Harry Osborn sitting at the other end of the court next to Penelope, giggling into each other’s ears, a loving couple indeed. _Nauseating_. “Wow he’s actually here. You would think high school events were beneath him.”

“Since we’re on the topic of Harry,” began Peter. “I... may have mentioned the blackhole thing to him while at the internship?”

Laura whipped her head to him. “WHAT? You told _Harry Osborn_ about the portal to the other universe?” She hissed. “Are you crazy?”

“He was there with me when we confirmed it, he was really helpful!” Peter argued and then whispered to her; “he even helped me figure out that the Sentinels copied your powers.” He handed her his phone and explained to her what he discovered, but he was saving the ‘best’ news for last;

“Also—don’t get mad but...he thinks I’m Spider-Man’s sidekick.”

She often seriously questioned his capability to keep a secret. “Are you_ kidding_ me? You can’t just let a third person in on this.” It was great that Harry helped, but three was a crowd, it was already too many people to keep track of.

“He was onto me!” Peter contended. “What was I supposed to say? This is better than him figuring out the whole truth ...isn’t it?” He stated uncertainly.

The lack of resolve behind his decision was astounding; “He’s one step away from figuring out you’re _actually _him,” she said spelling it out logically to him, “that also means he’s two steps away from figuring out _I’m_ the freak with the claws."

Peter’s brows furrowed and he looked hurt by what she said; “You’re not a freak, Laura,” he told her, gently. “I don’t think that at all.”

Laura couldn’t deal with this soft-sappiness right now. “Whatever,” she replied rigidly. “Just keep him at arm’s length.”

“He’s actually a really cool guy. I think he just needs people to hang out with,” he reasoned, feeling sorry for him. “He’s nothing like that rich douche-bag stereotype that people make him out to be, and it's not like Penelope is a good influence either." 

Laura saw Flash at the bottommost row glaring at her before turning back to the cheerleaders.

“You think he’s going to give me the stink eye forever?” She said, changing the topic. She hadn’t faced the repercussions from the fight the moment the varsity jacket went on, it was like another super-power altogether.

Peter snorted. “Could be worse, you could be me, the kid with herpes.” The girl next to him overhead, disgusted, Peter hastily tried explaining himself; “I don’t actually have herpes it was—”

“Hey Laura!” Julie Anderson, her track and field teammate appeared next to her on the stairs.

“Hey!” She smiled at her chirpily. Laura around her team became a completely different person; a bright, optimistic, funny go-getter, always making the best time on the long-distance runs—they liked her. It was shocking how much more people noticed her, almost revered in her because she was good at something. 

“Did you hear, if we place at the Harrison Tech meet, it’s a straight shot to Regionals!” Julie told her excitedly, her energy was so perky Laura felt the need to rise up to it;

“No way! I definitely need new running shoes for it.”

“I have a discount code for Footlocker I’ll send it to you.” She said and bent over, closer to Laura to whisper; “Oh and just so you know— some of us were talking and we're thinking about making you Captain next semester.”

Laura’s eyes widened, she never dreamed of rising to something like that. “Are you serious? Isn’t that risky? Penelope is meant to be Captain for the rest of the year.”

“It’s just between a few of us,” Julie said with a wink, ‘a few of them’ meant the gossip would spread like wildfire. “Penelope would _freak_ if she knew. We can talk about it some more at Samuel’s party tonight, you coming?”

At first, she was ecstatic to say yes to the invite, but then she remembered going on patrol with Peter. “Oh—uh... actually Peter and I already have plans.”

“Peter...Who?”

“Me.” Peter poked his head up and gave a short wave to Julie. “Peter Parker, how’s it going?”

“Oh.” The look on Julie’s face said it all. “Um—you can come to the party too.” She sounded like someone with a gun forced to their head.

“We’ll pass on that, Julie,” said Laura, to save everyone from the awkwardness. “We have science fair stuff to sort out, sorry.”

“Oh okay. Enjoy,” she flashed a big smile at Laura before she left. “See you at practice then.”

“Wow I didn’t realize I’d put on an invisible outfit today. You couldn’t have mentioned it to me?” said Peter, sarcasm thick on his tone.

* * *

**PETER **

In the midst of a high speed chase of two vans, a random thought occurred to him; "You know…” he ran along the length top of a lorry next to Laura before taking off again, talking to her in spilt sentences. “I’ve been thinking-” He rejoined her after swinging to the opposite building once she hopped onto the roof of another moving car.

“-Do you think there’s a female version of me?”

“Female version of you?” She covered her mouth to laugh as she leapt onto the next car in traffic, taxi driver in it, throwing his fist up at her, yelling at her not to dent his vehicle. 

“Yeah, in the alternate reality,” he said as he swung lower down to her before going back up again with the next web.

“She’d probably be better looking, I can tell you that.”

“Hey!” He protested as her laughter rang out though the air.

“I’ll go left!” She shouted and went left at T-junction lights. The two vans didn’t stop but spilt up. She jumped onto the pavement and into a sprint as Peter swerved through the air towards the right.

He landed on the roof of the car and poked his head upside down at them with a big wave. “Hi guys. Really wish we didn’t have to meet up like this every 3 months!” The van swerved recklessly left and right trying to throw him off, tires screeching.Peter dived feet first through the windows and clung to the driver’s door. “Why can’t we just grab some coffee like normal people?”

He pointed at the blonde one he had arrested before. “Lawrence did you get a hair cut?” He said, wagging a finger at him. “Seems like that hairstyle’s in trend now, very smooth side-fade.” He broke the driver’s side door open, it swung on it's hinges. He thew out the getaway driver, dodging one of Lawrence’s bullets. “Are you trying to kill me?” Peter feigned shock. 

The van was fast approaching a blocked off junction. Peter hopped off using to two webs latched onto it's back tires, and he pulled to stop it. 

With a jump kick he took out Lawrence before he could fall out of the van and escape.

“I’ve been thinking about getting one of those cuts too, do you guys think it’d suit me?” He quipped rubbing his head beneath the top of his mask as his web shot out and stole Lawrence’s gun.

“Why do you never shut up?!” Hollered Lawrence through clenched teeth. Peter’s next web covered his mouth to silence him, before using his last to stick him to the side of the stopped van. His web's launched at the getaway driver.

“Sheesh, you think you know someone but you really—” Peter stuck Lawrence’s partner like a fly beside him.

“Don’t." He finished, landing upright and dusting his hands off, admiring his handiwork. He clutched his heart; “it's really hurting my feelings guys.”

* * *

**LAURA **

In his Spider-Man suit, Peter was alive, laughing, joking; cheering them on as he flew threw the air above her. She shook her head at him with a hidden smile as he disappeared to chase the other van. Both were driven by gun-running rings Karen alerted them about, Peter was familiar with them. 

“Do you always need to have a whole conversation with the thugs before you capture them?” Laura reprimanded as she chased after the van she nominated. “There’s too much chatter over this comm.”

_“Lightens the mood!” _Peter laughed heartily on the other end. He had swiftly handled his van.

With her claws she clung to the side of the van. “Can you drive this thing? He’s not slowing down!” Laura said to Peter. She heard the passenger's gun clock and she flipped onto the roof to avoid the bullet.

_“Nope! Barely passed my driving test!”_

Laura rolled her eyes and punctured through the roof of the driver’s compartment. She heard screams from inside as she ripped the top off and swung her legs onto the seats.

She punched the thieves in the throat, one of them waved a gun in her face and she stuck it between her claws and tossed it out the window. Laura ducked and kicked the driver’s door open, shoving him out the vehicle while simultaneously grabbing hold of the steering to prevent the car from swerving onto innocent bystanders. She tried the brakes but they weren’t working.

His passenger wrestled the steering from her, stopping when she punched him in the nose. The van wasn’t slowing down, barraging passed parked cars and frightened citizens. _I’m going to have to stop it myself, _she thought disparagingly. Laura gripped the edge of the roof and launched herself out, propelling herself ten feet in front of the van. She spun on her heel, the impact of the van moving at 50 miles an hour, it almost sent her flying.

She shoved claws on both hands into the front bumper, pushing against its forceIt rippled through every bone in her skeleton like a xylophone. Her foot talons screeching on the tarmac as she absorbed the velocity of the vehicle. After one long minute it slowed to a standstill.

Laura was breathing hard and fast as she straightened. She heard screaming on her left and saw the thug threatening a family of three, to steal a car from them so he could escape. Her legs felt weak and sore, but she sprinted to him.

“Where do you think you’re going?” She skidded in front of the terrified mother, the thug holding the gun six feet from her. He fired a shot in an attempt to kill her, but Laura took it easily into her chest. The shock of the bullet didn’t sway her as she planted her foot talons on the concrete. As he tried to fire again, she lunged forward, her hand cupping the muzzle, the bullet going through tendons and bones of her hand. He started to shiver all over, going pale, as the hot blood in her hand dribbled down her arm, his gun, and she didn’t feel a thing. The bullet in her chest had fallen out by then. Laura decided she had enough for today. She yanked the gun out of his grip. While she had him shell-shocked; a whack on the side of his head and a kick in the balls later-he was squealing at her feet, Laura glaring down at him.

At that moment the sound of a horn blaring drew her attention. A lorry came for her. She was about to leapt out of the way when the unmistakable swoosh of Peter swinging through the air came from her periphery. He snatched her up, the spider-legs on his suit balling around them as he hugged her to him and they landed together, safely on the pavement. She shoved his arms off her;

“Show off,” she muttered, she was perfectly capable of saving herself. Before she could tell him this, Peter turned to the man who shot her. He punched him once more for good measure, and again, blood and spittle flying out of his lips.

“I think they get the idea!” She shouted at him, as the thug groaned in pain, rolling on the ground. That cheery mood he had when the patrol started was no where in sight. 

He wasn’t listening to her; he fisted the man’s shirt with both hands, hauled him up and threw him against a wall, before his webbing stuck him to it. She thought Peter was getting better, but evidently more work that needed to be done.

After they ensured the scene was clear they reassembled later on. The meeting spot; on top of a graffiti-strewn water silo that sat on a abandoned apartment block. Best view of Queens, Peter was right about that; sunset glinting off windows, buttery and dense, different levels of roofs in mismatched patterns expanding before them. A pink and powdery blue sunset. 

His mask dissolved as he sat down on the slanted roof of the silo, the peacefulness of their scenery shattered by his outburst. “Do you really need to get yourself hurt like that?” He came for her, eyes angered. “You give me a heart attack every single time!”

She folded her arms, “sounds like that’s more of your problem than mine." She didn’t know why he was so worked up over it, _I am perfectly fine, not a fucking scratch on me, definitely not some damsel in distress. _

“I’m serious Laura,” he said, jaw-clenched, in a no-nonsense tone she’d never heard him use before.

“Better me than them!” She argued. She would every flying bullets if it was going to protect someone. If she hadn’t taken the shots for that mother who knows what state they would be in now.

“You can’t just risk your life like that all the time,” he said vehemently. “What if you don’t come back? Then what? I can’t afford to lose another friend again, Laura.”

“Peter, I will come back,” she said stubbornly.

“Yeah but what _if,_” he retorted through gritted teeth, clearly at the end of his rope. Laura didn’t want to test his patience anymore; she hated fighting with him.

“Jeez, okay! okay!” She held her palms up in surrender to placate him. “I’ll be more careful, if it'll get you to stop telling me off." 

“Thank you!” He said, throwing his hands out in frustration. “Was that so hard?”

Now he was testing her patience. She stared straight at him, irritated. His features simmered down and went stiff, “Sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to lash out at you,” he muttered, stricken with guilt looked down at his hands in his lap. 

Instead of letting them tumble further into the argument, Laura sat down next to him with a long sigh. She was being childish, she shouldn't take his care for her for granted.

“Is this still about Madeline?”

She watched his chest fall and shake as he let out a deep breath. “Partly,” he replied staring out at the view, and the overhead train tracks leading into the dim sunset. “I’ve been fighting these guys for what feels like years. They just keep springing back up, again and again. It’s exhausting,” he wiped his hands over his face, weary. “They sell guns to kids, threaten innocent people, rinse and repeat, every single fucking time,” he told her. “I am so sick of it.”

That was her first time taking down gunrunning thugs but she understood his anger. “As morose as it sounds; I guess we can’t stop people like that from ever existing.”

He chewed on his bottom lip, his forehead creased with thought. He snorted disdainfully, his voice dark and low; “if you ask me, the Blip took the wrong people out of the equation. Every time I go out there, I ask myself why is this asshole alive?” He looked ready to punch someone, brawl again. “Why is he here? And not someone who actually deserves to be here?"

“Thinking like that doesn’t solve anything, Peter,” she said, squashing that dangerous self-destructive thought before it could take form.

“I know, and yet...” he drifted off with a frustrated growl, fists clenched in his lap. “But what happened in the Blip; it keeps coming back to me, but in different ways.” He was right about that; the portal, Laura’s powers, the Sentinels, Madeline’s death. She didn’t know what to say to make it better; sometimes she felt the same way. Why wasn’t it her mother who was alive? And not that man who nearly killed a family to steal their car?

“We’re still dealing with all the shit and death it caused,” he said, hugging his knees to his chest, making himself into a ball, as if he was trying to protect himself from whatever his own mind was telling him, forcing out the demons that circled in there. “I feel like it’ll never end.”

He went quiet, perhaps to hold back tears or anguished cries, she didn’t know, she wasn't a fan of the notion that he couldn’t fully express his emotions around her. It may have been the relative newness of the friendship, or the long ingrained toxic assumption that she was a ‘lady’ and he had to be ‘strong man’ who kept his emotions in check and crying was seen as a weakness. She didn’t care either way; she just wanted to be there for him.

“Peter,” she said gently, the tension from the fight dissipating. She held his shoulder and leaned forward to look at him properly. “Sometimes I feel helpless too, but what I’ve learnt is that people like us...we need to rise above that. Because if we don’t then we would’ve truly failed,” she said. Riley taught her that, to be resilient, her adoptive mother's patience was what she wanted to emulate too.

He rested his chin on his knees and slowly turned his head to her, listening. 

“But I think meeting you has made me more hopeful. So there’s that."

Slowly, through the battle-worn weariness and despair, a hint of a smile formed on his lips;

“I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

"Yeah, these moments are limited edition you better soak it up before its gone," she smirked thumping his arm and said; "I think I have an idea on how to make this better." 

* * *

**PETER **

In the Oscorp staff break room Peter leaned back on the lounge sofas, his white coat hanging on the back of it. Harry Osborn sat on the couch chair adjacent to him doing a college assignment on his laptop. Peter scrawled in his notebook, chewing on the end of his pen, scribbling things out, a flight of ideas at the forefront of his mind. 

“What are you writing with so much passion and fever?” Harry asked him curiously, “your diary?” He chuckled. Harry was the kind of person who thought therapy was pointless. 

"Nope, I’m just sketching out some ideas for Laura."

“Alright. So... what's he like?" Harry asked, randomly.

Peter looked at him above his notebook. “Who...Laura?" 

_Where do I start? _

"No, I mean Spider-Man." 

“Oh, he's great,” he replied, wondering why he was getting nervous about talking about _himself_, then again, even if Harry asked him about Peter Parker, he’d be stammering. It was a complex self-hate; low self-esteem thing, boastful even. He perceived people were just pretending to give a shit about him when they actually did not, _like Julie Anderson, Laura’s perky track & field teammate_.

He always sold Spider-Man though, more than he ever did Peter Parker;

“He’s really...charismatic," said Peter, "like an all around solid dude, so strong, surprisingly hilarious. He's great." 

“You’re not being like...forced to help him aren you? And say all of that?” Harry said skeptically.

_Clearly, I was over-selling it. _“No, no. I do it cuz he’s fighting for a good cause. He’s not a bad guy. The city needs a hero." That was true, all of the Avengers had retired after the battle.

“Imagine how much dough you’d make taking close-up pictures of him,” said Harry.

Harry always had an obscure business venture on his mind, whether it was customising footwear for flatfooted people or dating apps, ‘but for making new friends.’ Peter had yet to hear a diamond in the rough amongst the half-formed ideas Harry came up with. 

“The online news sites go crazy for quality pics of Spider-Man. They can sell anywhere from 50 to 200 dollars."

“Hmm. I haven’t thought to ask him for that,” mused Peter, _it’s actually a really good idea._ “He’s a busy guy."

“My dad says people in masks can’t be trusted,” Harry said, “and everything he has is just stolen tech from us.”

Peter’s eyes widened. “From Oscorp?” The radioactive spider was from his class trip here, but the project had disbanded soon after his powers came. With how hectic his life got after gaining his powers, he didn’t have the time to chase down those answers when he could be using it to help people.

“From somewhere at least, I mean think about it; an average Joe like that, he’s either be a thief or has the money to have the Spider-suit and the powers he does. Or he’s some experiment that went wrong, pretty much the summary of most of the powered individuals on our planet.” said Harry. Another thing about him; he enjoyed controversial discussions like this, it hit Peter closer to home then.

“It must take some psycho to do what he does, doesn’t it?”

He got defensive. “He’s got abilities and he wants to use them to stop people getting hurt, and help the city; I don’t think a psycho would do that.”

“He could be like the Avengers,” said Harry, referring to the Accords they signed after Sokovia. “Everyone knows exactly who they are...and how much they fucked up,” Harry added, and shook his head. “Never mind, don’t be like the Avengers, not a good idea either." 

“I’m sure he has his reasons to stay hidden. Maybe a life and loved ones he needs to protect,” said Peter, growing a touch more agitated.

“Ah yes, the ‘he’s only human,’ argument. But he’s not human, not really,” said Harry. “Don’t you think that if you were a super like him, or any of the powered people in New York—you’d almost feel... less human? I mean things that we worry about; he doesn’t have to worry about. Like if he fell from a 80-story building he’d swing away and live. Regular people like us would just go splat on the pavement.”

Harry had a point there, but he never felt _invincible _being Spider-Man, far from it.

“I don't think that matters. He changed my life. A lot of kids look up to him.” _To me. They look up to me. _Peter swallowed, sometimes the pressure of it could cause his heart to swell, overwhelmed.

“Can’t imagine having that responsibility, with my track record,” Harry shook his head, taking a sip of water. “I wonder how pees in that suit."

_He holds it. _

“He’s got people counting on him, because they believe in him,” said Peter, closing his notebook and leaning forward. “And I think someone like that is perfectly aware of the responsibility they have on their shoulders, that they have to this city,” he said firmly. “He isn’t just standing idly and letting shit happen if he can stop it.”

As Peter said it, it was a reminder to himself, his mission. Sometimes it was hard to take his own advice, any advice. But Laura was right, there was a time for feeling helpless and sorry for himself, but there was also a time to rise above that. The ‘how’ he was still figuring out, and the ‘for who’ as well, because he still didn’t feel like he deserved any of this; to be Spider-Man, to be alive.

“Whoa—okay. Chill Peter,” Harry held his palms up to him, confused at the passion in his response.

“Son, what are you doing down here?”

He glanced over his shoulder and _the_ Norman Osborn stood behind him. Peter leapt up to his feet like his ass was on fire and spun around, whilst Harry unhurriedly stood up.

“Dad,” said Harry. “This is my friend Peter Parker. He’s an intern here.”

Norman Osborn was older, taller, and just as handsome as Harry, not a grey hair in sight on his head. _That’s where he gets his looks. _

Peter palms began to sweat, he tried to brush them against his trousers before going in for a handshake. “Sir, it is such an honour to meet you.”

“You’re the Peter who saved my son’s life,” Norman said, shaking his hand, and Peter was on the edge of passing out in his fan-boying. “Thank God you were there.”

“Yeah. It was nothing,” he replied unflappably, hoping his voice hadn’t gone up an octave higher, because it sure as hell sounded like it did. “My friend and I just pulled him off the street.”

“My boy parties hard, works harder. That’s what I tell him,” Norman clapped Harry on his shoulder with a smirk. “Well, we’ll have to thank both of you,” he said. “Oh, excuse my manners; this is Dr Victor, he’s the lead geneticist here.” Norman gestured behind him, he was flanked by two people; Dr Victor, a much older man with salt and pepper hair, small eyes, and a perpetual frown, and a younger woman, an assistant who looked just as stressed and worn out as the doctor.

“We’re working on something innovative that will change humanity as we know it,” said Norman, proudly. “Ah forgive me for using the companies slogan, how cheesy."

“No need. It’s true,” Peter, agreed with an optimistic nod, it was moment to impress him. “I’ve read a lot about the cancer research you guys do, especially on the RP gene, for curing childhood retinoblastoma, personality disorders, even early onset Alzheimer’s.”

Norman grinned wide with a deep laugh and clapped Peter on the shoulder with a firm grip. He instantly forgot everything Harry told him about his father not trusting heroes in masks. “This kid has done his research, I like him already Harry. It’s controversial, I know, as the media says, but it’ll change lives.”

“I followed up on the story of the 5 year old you cured from the eye cancer,” Peter added, he was beaming, _top ten best days ever. _“It was amazing how you came up with it so soon and rolled out the medication.”

“We saw the urgency in Sarah’s case. If only we could get it FDA approved, but unfortunately these things take time—”

His assistant approached them, finger held up, a hurried look on. “Mr Osborn we really must head to—”

“Hold on there,” he held up his hand to stop her, and let out a soft breath of dismay; “honestly, I can never have a proper conversation with anyone I meet here. Before I forget; let me properly thank you for saving my son. We're hosting a fundraiser here this weekend, we’re inviting all the big names in STEM. All of our Heads of department will be there, too. You and your friend, Laura should come.”

“Oh really?” Peter’s blood pressure skyrocketed. “I don’t want to trouble you—I-"

“Oh no son, it’s no trouble at all,” he waved his hand through the air, Harry had a similar easy-going mannerism_._ “You’ll be looking at colleges soon and it’ll be a great opportunity to meet some of the key scientists in our company, make a few contacts. Might be inspiring for both of you,” he said, he glanced at his son. The look he gave was expectant, stern, nearly imperceptible, besides a slight hardening of his blue eyes. “You’ll be there too, won’t you Harry?”

“I’ll be there, dad,” he assured him, and Peter had to ask where the laid-back party boy had gone.

“It’s black-tie,” said Norman. “Vivian will put you in touch with my personal tailor to loan you a suit, don’t worry about a thing Peter.”

“Mr Osborn,” Vivian said with more haste, she swiped her tablet and Peter heard his phone ding with the details of the event. Everything was happening so fast, it felt surreal.

“Ah, they just keep pulling me away, I’m sorry Peter, it was great meeting you,” Mr Osborn shook his hand once more. “Hope to see you there.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

...

It was clear Harry really admired his father, even if the relationship at times was strained. Especially with his troubles hopping from highschool to boarding schools and so on. It was whatever he could stick too for more than 6 months without causing a scene, fight, throwing a rave, or almost burning the place down—was considered a win. His mother died when he was a kid and it was just the two of them. Harry said his dad was much better after the Blip, less animosity in their relationship and more effort to understand one another.

Harry often regaled the stories of his antics like they were great treasures. To him, that was how he made the most of his days in high-school, apathy towards academics, but plenty of good times. He never understood why Peter took it so seriously with all his AP classes, extra-credit, and clubs.

As they left for the day, Penelope appeared next to them planting a kiss on Harry’s cheek.

“Penelope. Hey,” Harry greeted her with a wide grin, an arm around her waist. “You guys go to the same school right. Have you met?” Harry gestured between Peter and Penelope. Peter hadn’t forgotten the kiss at her party.

“Yeah we have,” she replied, unfazed by this odd meeting.

“I need to grab my jacket; I’ll be back in a sec,” he said, disappearing to the reception, leaving them. Peter grew anxious, wondering if he should bright it up, but she did anyway;

“Before you say anything; I’m sorry about what happened at my party,” she said, earnestly. “I shouldn’t have messed with you like that. It was really immature.”

“Harry doesn’t know about what happened between us?” Peter asked her, since it wasn’t mentioned at all. The couple had not officially broken up when they kissed and Peter didn’t want to be wedged in any drama. “I know you guys got back together.”

“Thank you for not telling him, technically we just had a really bad fight,” she said. “But he likes hanging out with you,” she added on a good note.

“Yeah he’s cool.”

“You’re a good guy, Peter,” she smiled at him as Harry returned with his jacket and an arm around her. “I’ll see you at school.”

* * *

**Thanks for making it to the end folks. Of course it would make sense for Iron Man to swoop in but as I mentioned in prev chapters, he's retired and like come on guys, it'd be way to easy to have Tony fix everything for Peter. **


	9. Chapter 9

**Laura **

“Maybe we should tell Riley about this,” said Peter, as he slowed down his stride next to her, “about Madeline. The missing persons case was under her belt. It could resolve doubts, any guilt she has. It would at least give her some answers.”

Laura stopped in her tracks and snatched his arm, _had he lost his mind?_ “Peter, telling her about Madeline will lead to too many questions I can’t answer, questions about _me,” _she said, hotly. Laura looked ahead at the church to see if the support group session was over. 

She felt sick to stomach to lie to someone she loved. She was painting an elaborate story about the extra clubs she was _not _involved in, in order to shed cover up why she was always coming home so late. “I’ve dodged it this far. She’s not ready to know I have powers.”

The adoption papers were still being processed, she couldn’t imagine dropping a bomb like this now, with so many big changes underway. Besides, Riley was so busy with task-forces she was running as street gangs battled over the unclaimed territory left behind after the Blip. Many of the mob families had been decimated when their leaders and footmen died, and that left smaller gangs to rise up to fill the void. 

“What are you afraid of?” Peter asked. At first she hesitate to unveil herself, and be vulnerable, but this was Peter, he wanted to know because he cared. In fact, they were both orphans, he'd understand better than anyone. 

“That she’ll—I don’t know,” she took a deep breathe in, “—not want me. Regret adopting me. It feels like a new beginning all over again, not like it was last time when we first met and she decided to choose me and take _me _in. I just want it to be perfect.”

Peter stopped abruptly. "Laura, I can't imagine anyone ever regretting having you in their lives." 

Laura's feet could not move. The sincerity and affection of his statement warmed her like a hot chocolate. Peter was unfailingly kind, sometimes she could forget it, until he said things like this. Friends she made in the past had never been so genuine with her, she must have been choosing wrong all this time. What was more embarrassing was how she knew he meant platonically, and that was perfect in it's own way, just wasn't the reason her heart sped up. Before she could blubber out an answer, his eyes lit up and he peeked around her. 

They came to a stop outside the church as Ms Montega came down the stairs. She said goodbye to other attendees and then ran into them lingering on the pavement.

“Ms. Montega,” greeted Laura.

This being the third meeting, she was more pleasant with her; “Laura, I’m surprised to see you here. How are you?”

“Good,” she replied, clearing her head from Peter's words. “This is my friend Peter.”

“Hi m’am,” he said, and she found it rather adorable when he was so formal greeting older people. “Laura told me about what happened to Madeline.”

Ms Montega sighed melancholically, no less hurt, but a little capable of dealing with the loss (and it was a loss because they were certain Madeline was dead) compared to when Laura last saw her. She could see her smiles lines appearing again.

“Well, we have plenty of sad stories to share nowadays don’t we?” She said. “Are you here for the next support group?”

“No, we’re not,” said Peter. “Actually we’re here because…we don’t think what happened to Madeline was because of the Blip. We believe you.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” she replied, not yet grasping the full scope of what they meant. Laura dreaded telling her the truth, her palms sweaty. Perhaps this hadn’t been a good idea to begin with. “And so would Madeline, to know there are people out there who are still on her side.”

Laura swallowed uneasily and licked her lips, she felt herself getting choked up, and over the fate of a girl she barely knew. But she felt like they were family. They shared the same DNA, a mutation. Their powers may have been different, but they could’ve been different together. If only Madeline had known she wasn’t alone with her powers, that she didn’t have to share the burden and endure the fear by herself, if only they’d been able to help her, help each other.

Before it was too late. 

"Actually," Laura began and then stopped. She couldn’t manage to form the words, then Peter was there for her instead, holding her wrist, "it's on me," mumbled Peter, he still felt the weight of that burden daily. And something they knew they had to do for Mrs. Montega: 

“There’s something you need to know, Mrs Montega..." said Peter, "about what happened to Madeline. I think we should sit down.”

...

Later that day, in the afternoon, Laura went over to Peter’s apartment to study for midterms. She was listening to her music as she got to his apartment block, a lot on her mind;

_“This is information Spider-Man gave us,” _Laura had told Ms Montega, after telling her that her daughter was likely dead. She didn’t cry. She didn’t fight, nor was she in any denial over it. She was braver than both of them combined and more importantly, she believed them.

“_I always knew my Maddy was different,” _she told them, her eyes drifting off as they sat together on the park bench. “_And she was here….she became that-they were calling her a monster. “_

At that point Laura started crying silently and she felt Peter’s hand wrapped around her elbow discreetly, to let her know he was there, anchoring her to the moment.

“_We can’t let the people who did this to her, get away with it,” _said Mrs Montega with a hard-glacier-like look. She wasn’t going down without a fight.

“_We—” _Peter piped up and corrected himself; “_Spider-Man and his partner...they’re on it.” _

And they were doing their best.

Ms Montega swore she was going to do her own investigating and they didn’t stop her, after all they were only messengers.

Aunt May opened the apartment door for her and explained that Peter wasn’t back yet.

“It’s alright I’ll just wait in the living room,” she said.

As she passed by his bedroom, she noticed his window was open. Suspicious, she looked around the living room area; Aunt May wandered off to her bedroom, so Laura went into his room. His table was a mess of whatever computer parts he’d dumpster dived for yesterday. She stuck her head out the window, hopped onto his desk and started to climb up.

She heard footfalls above her, landing like high jumps and kicks. As she got closer to the roof came the exasperated sighs, ‘hmms’ and ‘woo’s’, followed by the clicking sound of a camera.

She hoisted herself up to see what Peter was doing;

As Spider-Man he was adjusting his cracked iPhone on a tripod balanced perilously on an old chimney. He was getting cranky and fussy over the timer settings. Laura didn’t understand what he was doing. It became clear when he positioned himself a few feet from the camera and started back-flipping and leaping in front of it as the self-timer snapped his pics.

He threw in a few finger gun’s, salutes, a few action kicks and punches. After 10 clicks he scrolled through the pictures, and from his deep frustrated sigh he clearly didn’t like any of them.

At that point she couldn’t hold in her laughter any longer.

“HAHA!" 

“Wha-Laura!” Peter gasped and spun around his elbow whacking the tripod backward. He gasped and snatched it with his cat-like reflexes before it fell over into the chimney, where it would’ve taken his iPhone with it.

Laura folded over, laughing until her stomach hurt as she clung to the side of the roof.

Peter’s shoulders fell in such profound dismay it made her laugh even louder. He came up to her.

“What—what are you doing fam?” She asked between laughs, planting her feet on the roof. “I mean if you’d much rather be doing this than studying for mid-terms, by all means, continue with the show, honey." 

He tilted his head up to the sky with a groan and yanked his mask off. “I was_ trying_ to take Spider-Man pictures to sell to online, apparently it makes good money.”

She wiped a laughter tear from the corner of her eye. “You could’ve asked me to be your photographer,” she replied, to annoy him.

He lifted the hand with the mask at her. “Oh so you can laugh at me even more?” By then he was already cracking a wide smile.

“I can help you get your best angles,” she stepped closer, his brown hair being whipped around by the wind, he was squinting from the sun in his eyes. Laura took the tripod from him and sighed; “it’ll be quite a challenge but we have to work with what we got,” she said wryly and patted his chest in sympathy.

Peter smirked, rolling his eyes; “okay, ha, ha, I looked ridiculous, but I think I got some good ones— let me bask in this moment of self-love, alright?”

She laughed. He seemed to be in a better mood now, after Madeline, after telling Mrs Montega the truth. They went back down to his apartment and she waited for him to change before they sat down in his bedroom. It was still as messy as it was the last time she was here. The whiteboard with the multi-verse theory sat in the corner un-erased. Unbidden, she felt a tingle in her finger tips, then a rush through her body as if she was being pulled through water. She'd fallen through the sky between two universes, through whirl of rainbow light and ether around her. Mesmerising, yet frightened her to the core she wanted to hide under her bed forever.

“Here I got you this.” He rested a folded chunk of cloth on his desk and pushed it to her, snapping her out of it. 

She glanced at it. “You want me to sew you a dress, Peter?” She joked running her hands over the thick, leather-like material. 

He looked just about done with her wise-cracks but she noted he was still hiding a smirk. “It’s a Kevlar-carbon composite from Stark Industries,” Peter explained, sitting down beside her. “The weaving is strong. It’s lightweight and slash-proof. I thought you could use it to make something for yourself so you don’t—you know...turn into target practice for all the thugs out there.”

She had to admit, he did have a point. She needed to have some limits and perhaps improving on her fighting skills would mean fewer injuries. “This feels amazing,” she said, trying to cut the material with her claws yet it remained durable and intact, not a single dent. “But I have no idea where to start with a super-suit.”

It felt surreal to call it that, she didn’t really belong in the same category as the Avengers or even as Spider-Man. Sometimes she wasn’t sure if she was meant to be doing this or if it was the right thing. Peter had grown into his role as the neighbourhood hero, but Laura was still on the fence.

“I sketched out a few ideas and Karen ran the simulations, I’ll send them to you,” he opened up his notebook for her. They all looked amazing.

She stared at them in awe, and then turned to him. “You did this for me?”

He simply shrugged. “Hey, us neighbourhood heroes need to have each other’s backs,” he said with a half-smile, pumping his fist on her shoulder.

She smiled at him, feeling her face heat up. Even though it really, really, should not have made her flustered. Laura cleared her throat; “I can’t wait to work it. Ahem, now I have something to show you,” she said, resting her backpack on her lap. “So I snooped around the area we fought the Sentinels and found this.”

She unzipped her backpack and produced the orange robotic eye. It was a dimmer orange than it would normally be if it was attached to the Sentinel, but it had definitely come off the robot. It was impossible to forget those glowing orbs that stared into her soul.

“Shit that’s it's eye!” Peter took it from her oogling it, astonished.

“I must’ve hit it out of it,” she said. “It’s running low on power, so we don’t have much time left with it. We should reverse engineer it—”

Peter grinned at her. “You took the words right out of my mouth. Alrighty, let’s do this,” he said. He did some preliminary scans using a larger version of Karen on a pod on his desk.

“Search and destroy protocol,” Peter read out.

The same code she heard when she was in the control unit of the Alpha-Sentinel. “Sounds about right.”

“It’s locked on this code sequence,” said Peter gesturing at the line of numbers and letters.

“I have an idea,” said Laura, “bring up the DNA match that we got from Madeline and I.”

Peter did so and the code now converted to DNA bases, hers and the one inputted into the search and destroy code, lined up perfectly. Both of them were quiet for a moment, shell-shocked by their discovery.

His hands slipped from the keyboard and into his lap.“On the other Earth…” Peter began. “Trask Industries must have created these Sentinels to hunt people like you, detecting your DNA, so that they could kill you by copying your powers,” he said, his voice growing more loud and intense. He turned to her. “That’s why it didn’t do anything to me!”

“You were right,” said Laura. “It fits, the mutated genes, the gamma radiation from the Blip. Jesus, I wouldn’t want to live on that other Earth where more of them exist.” She said peering at a drawing of the Sentinels Peter had drawn and stuck to his wall.

A burst of inspiration took Laura and she spun to Peter, at the same time his eyes grew wide as they simultaneously had their light bulb moment;

“Maybe we can use it to— find other’s like me.”

“Track others like you?” Peter blurted out at the same time.

Laura’s chest burst forth with excitement and she threw her arms up, “YES!” 

Peter threw his arms up too and high-fived her in the air. 

“Perfect!”

And then, the high-five turned into a hug. Peter’s arms dropped and wrapped around her, and she didn’t freeze. Laura returned the hug, clutching his back, her chin resting gently on his shoulder. To be honest, it felt like a long time coming. She closed her eyes and savored the snugly comfort of it, his sweater thick and soft, and his hair smelling like after-shave. As Peter pulled away, she noticed he didn’t look embarrassed or hesitant; they both needed it after the month they had.

Except... with the afternoon sunlight backlighting his brown hair and the warm smile he gave her—a tiny part of her wondered what it would be like to have more than just a hug, and why she was only noticing Peter in this way now. She also noticed how her heart swelled, full and wholesome just by sitting there with him—

_Laura. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. _Laura repeated that to every cell in her body, to force common sense to return. She smirked and thumped his arm with her fist like she normally would, as friends— followed by a snarky remark to cover it up. They went back to studying Sentinel’s eye, everything that felt was just inside her head.

...

At track practice the next day, Laura gulped down on her water after a run. Coach was doubling up on the practice hours as they approached the meet with Harrison Tech. Laura took her break between sprints and sat on the bleachers across the field. She waited on updates on the Sentinel tracker from Peter.

“Kinney!”

Penelope’s shout made her turn and as she stalked towards her. She looked livid. 

“Um, yes?” She mumbled as Penelope stopped in front of her, towering over her.

She glared down at her, “you haven’t been here for 3 months and you want steal my position, that I worked _years _for?”

Laura let out a weary sigh and stood up too, no way was she going to let her loom over her. “Penelope, I know you don’t like it, but I’ve made the best times on the team, how is that bad thing for _you? _It’s good for everyone, isn’t it?”

“It’s not about that,” Penelope hissed, lowering her voice. They were on the other side of the field, only two of their other teammates were there too, but they were watching;

“What I did for this team, no one else could’ve ever done. I made a name for us, I built our reputation; so they would recognize this team, this sport at Midtown.” 

“It’s not all about you.”Laura retorted. “It doesn’t make you the best leader for everyone here.”

“You think you could do a better job?” Penelope gritted back. “You don’t know the first thing about leadership and training.”

Laura most definitely did not, but she would be damned if she was going to let Penelope have the last word on this and make her look inadequate.

“You’re so full of it,” Laura told her, finally letting out all the distrust and resentment towards her like there was hot steam blowing out of her nose and ears. Penelope was not fooling anyone, least of all her; “You pretend to be a nice person, but you’re not. You’re mean. You think people will just roll over and do whatever you want them too, and make feel like shit,” she told her. “I don’t know what spell you’re putting them, on us, your friends, my friends, and your boyfriend—but it’s not working anymore, you’re not who you say you are.”

Penelope’s face grew more lined and angered with each word, especially when Laura mentioned Harry Osborn. Coach Harries blew the whistle calling for them to end their break and get back to training. Penelope whipped her ponytail in Laura’s face and stormed away.

* * *

**Peter **

“Peter! Can you get the eggs?” Ned’s mum called from the stoop. “They’re in the back seat!”

“Sure thing Mrs. Leeds!” He called back to her as she wandered into the apartment lobby. Peter collected the eggs in his arms and went up the flights of stairs to the Leed’s home.

Peter set down the eggs on the kitchen counter top, just below a picture of the Leed’s family. Ned and his father were gone now, leaving his mum and his kid sister Hannah behind. He remembered Ned complaining about how much his mum was fussing over his outfit choice for that family portrait.

_A Hawaiian shirt, no less. _

“Thank you Peter,” said Mrs Leeds. Peter usually came by every month to visit them, but he hadn’t had the time since school started up again. He didn’t stay long, he usually helped pick up groceries, fixed a leaking sink, helped Ned’s little sister with math homework. After the Blip, it was too difficult to come over, to be in that home with so many memories of the beginnings of their friendship.

But over time it got easier, for Peter, and for Ned’s mum and his sister. It was a way for him to process his guilt over what happened on Titan, to be nostalgic of the time before that.

“You want a banana-chip muffin, Peter?” She offered, “I made these yesterday,” she held out a Tupperware and he took one immediately.

“Oh yes please,” as Peter was about to lift it to his mouth he noticed a stack of boxes leaning on the living room wall, labeled _Ned. _He heart dropped to the floor. He walked over to them, his legs feeling shaky, his throat tight, chest weighed down by bricks.

“This is—this is Ned’s stuff,” he muttered, and he had to put the muffin down because his hands were trembling. “Are you-are you getting rid of it?” He asked, peering over his shoulder to Mrs Leeds.

She looked at him with sad eyes. “Oh, Peter. I was going to contact you about it, it slipped my mind,” she said standing next to him, in front of him was everything Ned owned, everything bit of his life left behind. “With Ned and...and his father gone, I can’t afford to live here with Hannah,” she explained, getting choked up, but she didn’t cry. “We’re moving next month. A fresh start.”

She was moving on. Peter started to realize that it truly was a phase of his life that was over, and he was never going to get it back. He shook his head, closing his eyes, feeling like a piece of shit for not having any idea about what was going on; “I didn’t know Mrs. Leeds. I’m sorry that I haven’t been around in a while, with school and all—I was caught up—”

“It’s okay, Peter,” she gently rested a hand on his shoulder, and he needed that support. “I’ve... debated if we should get rid of Ned and his dad's things for months. I mean—you know with the way they passed, it was so sudden...” she sighed deeply.

God, it was still so hard to talk about it without falling apart, the sting of the heartbreak and loss still got to him sometimes.

“It was hard to even imagine a world without them. But I think it might help all of us to move on. Keeping all of this, it just makes it all more painful. And there are some families and children, less fortunate than us, who could make use of it,” she said and offered him a kind smile, despite everything. “Look through his things, if you want to keep anything. I’m a hundred percent certain he’d want you to have the Death Star.”

She gestured to it off on the left in a box of Ned’s Star Wars collectibles. He smiled sadly, with the hint of amusement at knowing that Ned would have been livid to know that all of that stuff was going to complete strangers, _he would have wanted to make money off of selling it at the very least. _Peter placed the lego Death Star upright when his phone started to bleep in his jean pocket.

Peter’s heart skipped and he drew it out;

_Alert: Sentinel tracker has acquired target. _

Peter hastily told Mrs Leeds that he had to leave but would come by again soon. He dashed out the door.

“Call Laura,” Peter spoke into his wrist piece. She picked up on the first ring. “Hey, we need to meet. The Sentinel software located someone but I don’t know how long it’ll stay on him,” said Peter as he simultaneously scrolled through a virtual map of New York following the movement of the red dot. “I’m going to head to the location now, I’ll send the coordinates over.” 

_“I’ll be there soon.” _

_…_

After he changed and nightfall came upon them, he spent a good hour quietly following and researching their target. He probably should have asked Laura to specify when ‘soon’ was because she arrived much later after many missed calls.

Laura hopped up onto the roof much later. Peter in his Spider-Man suit, threw his arms out to her in annoyance;

“Where have you been, dude? I've called you a billion times!" 

“Sorry!” She explained, hopping on one leg to pull a customized boot that fit her talons on the other. “Track team went for dinner after practice, it was hard to get away.”

“But you know how important this is!” He half-shouted at her, still not done. “I need the back-up! Time is of the essence, Laura. We can’t lose him!”

“Okay, chill! I’m here now aren’t I?” She retorted.

Peter huffed through his nose and shook his head. There was no use getting riled up over it now. He noted that she was wearing one of the suits he’d designed. It was midnight blue and black, with panels of dark gold, utility pockets down the leg, high collared.

“Nice suit. I see you went with option 4,” he remarked, impressed as she pulled her half-mask over the lower half of her face.

“Yeah. Had to do plenty of research beforehand. I may have broken a few sewing needles, but you got my measurements down to the T.” 

He shrugged a shoulder. “Well I’m pretty observant—“ he realized that may have sounded a little pervy and he swiftly corrected himself “—and, um, you know, cuz Karen’s very good at biometrics analyses. It’s not like I was paying _too _much attentio—”

Laura eyes were deadpan; it wasn’t the time for him to be a wildly awkward mess. “What’s the mission, Peter?” She cut him off.

He nodded affirmatively. “Right. So, his name is Alex Summers,” he told her as they crouched over the edge of the roof. “20 years old, this guy is a known felon.” He pulled up the records on his watch piece to show her. “He served11 months for arson, but they let him out early on good behavior.”

“Good for him,” Laura got up, “now let’s drag him out to have a chat with him.”

Peter held onto her shoulder to stop her mid-step. “Whoa, we can’t do that,” he warned before she carried out that terrible idea. “Everything was fine..._until _he got back on the police radar for arson, again,” he told her, and directed her gaze to the streets. “I checked the police scanners and they have an APB out for him. There are two unmarked police cars down the street, they’re waiting for him to leave that bar." 

She side-glanced at him. “You went and asked the police about it?”

“I have some leeway with the cops in New York,” he said, of course he had to, after being Spider-Man for two years. They were friendly with him, and he was friendly with them. They had a mutual understanding that he didn’t want to disrupt.

“Also, we don’t know what his powers are like,” he pointed out that crucial detail. The only scale of power levels they had was; Laura with healing powers and claws ...to city-level threats like Madeline that could turn into molten lava monster to melt an entire city.

They had _no idea_ where Summers fell into that range. That unknown variable made him dangerous.

“We could take him,” she said, with a determined stare. 

“It might also spook him,” he added cautiously.

“So what if has a shady past?” Laura countered. “Maybe he needs our help to understand what’s happening to him; what if the reason he went to jail in the first place was because of his powers? Maybe he doesn't _deserve to _be there at all,” she argued. “We should get to him first before the cops.”

“Whoa, no, no,” he held his arms out her. “Remember what I said about people with powers being dangerous? We don’t know this guy, and that bar he’s in- is full of people,” he said pointing at it. “We’re getting in the way of the police doing justice.”

“We can’t just judge him for what he’s done without talking to him!” She argued. “We also do things the cops can’t do, like dealing with kids with superpowers, and what about Madeline’s justice? We promised her mum we would help her.”

“I know that, but we can’t take him aside for a chat, and then hand him right back, it’ll raise questions that we don’t have the answers to, especially if he’s a really bad guy,” he explained. It was a delicate situation, and Peter had to learn that the hard way, but now he had to teach this to Laura who was just, if not—_ more_ impatient than he was when he first started out.

“We can’t do anything if we become public enemy number 1 and 2, by interfering with an ongoing police investigation.”

“It doesn’t make sense; you do it all the time,” she said irritably.

“What I normally do, is simpler than this,” said Peter, calmly. “We need to find another way Laura. The only reason the cops haven’t gone after me as a menace is because I stay in my lane. Same goes for you.” 

She grunted in annoyance, having to agree with his point, to her chagrin. They just had to take one look at any other vigilantes and powered-individuals in the their country—the reaction from the government and authorities was a mixed bag, but it never started out as welcoming. There were always hunts and arrests, negative media coverage, opposing public opinion involved. Peter was lucky Spider-Man was well liked.

_For now. And depending on what news site covered Spider-Man, some could make him out to be an asshole. _

“I didn’t realize doing this involved so much red tape,” said Laura, moaning, infuriated. “So...what’s your call, Peter?”

“I don’t know—”

“Come on, you must have some ideas.” 

...

Laura leaned on the dumpster, arms crossed, her body turned away from him to give him privacy. He scrambled to get his regular street clothes back on.

“I’ll never understand how you only wear boxers underneath that suit, and change in a gross alleyway everyday.”

“I need to stay light on my feet. Stay breezy.”

She snorted at his remark. All Laura had to do was slip a hoodie on and the rest of her outfit blended seamlessly in like dark jeans and combat boots.

Peter sidled up next to her when he was ready, as they strolled casually towards the bar, he rubbed his palms together; “Extraction Mission: Save Summer, is a go.”

“Don’t use your powers. Just say you’re with me.” Laura held up two driver’s licenses with their faces on them to him.

“Seriously? Fake ID’s?” Peter said in a shouted whisper, _we are in for a ride tonight_. “It’s like you’re begging for them to arrest us. Where did you get these?” He snatched it off her to inspect his. It looked pretty realistic, although he definitely did not look 28 in real life.

“Harry Osborn,” she said, smiling proudly. “Told him you wanted to go drinking like a real adult.”

He frowned at her. “I thought you weren’t a fan of Harry.”

She shrugged a nonchalantly. “Eh, he’s got a lot a few tricks up his sleeve.”

The bar was modelled like a speakeasy and packed. It was rowdy this late at night and there was a bouncer outside to control the crowd. He felt like a fetus in there standing in line with everyone dressed sharp and sleek for a night out. The girls in line were tall and beautiful, he couldn’t help but oogle some of them around him. Laura caught his staring and rolled her eyes.

They were almost at the bouncer. Laura squished her ear to the wall for a few seconds and then leaned off it.

“The cops are in here,” she whispered to him. Peter gulped, on the verge of chickening out. What was worst than Spider-Man getting in trouble with the cops?

16 year old Peter Parker getting arrested for under-age drinking.

_Aunt May is going to freak out. _

“Oh shit, new plan, new plan,” he stepped out of the line and Laura yanked him by the collar to stand next to her.

“Chill out, Peter, we can do this,” she said into his ear. Then she flashed a toothy smile at the bouncer once she was in the front.

The typical burly 6 foot man took one look at Laura and her ID card and let her through the doors leaving him behind, once it got to Peter...he wasn’t so lucky.

He panicked.

“Yes I’m here all the way from Kentucky!” He said out loud to the bouncer with an over-enthusiastic smile. The bouncer scowled at him above the fake ID he examined.

“Yeah right. Not tonight. Get out of here, kiddo!” He said gruffly and shoved Peter to the curb with one large hand.

It didn’t make sense, Laura and Peter’s ID were _both fake! _He let out a frustrated moan and texted Laura that she was going to have to go in there alone.

So much for his brilliant extraction plan.

* * *

**Laura **

Truth be told, she could’ve been earlier to the mission if she hadn’t agreed to go out with the team afterwards. Laura hadn’t expected Peter to blow up at her like that, and she felt guilty. Things seemed to be getting busier now with her extracurricular and with school. She wanted to win the Athena Award and being Captain would open more doors for her too.

She hoped that was the last of the times she and Peter would have a spat. It didn’t feel good.

Laura did a quick scan of the bar and noted where all the undercover cops were. Although she could tell they were cops from one glance and the sound of their handcuffs jangling in their back pocket. _Not doing such a good job now are they?_

She spotted Alex Summers in the center of the bar leaning on a standing-table, accompanied by a young lady who was enjoying his undivided attention. He was tall with sandy blonde hair that flopped into his eyes.

How he managed to sneak in— being below the legal age and hunted by the cops was something she’d have to ask him later.

Laura braced herself and stalked over to him. He was enjoying himself way too much to be on the run _or he’s hopeless at casing a scene and realizing the number of cops here to arrest him_. A waiter was carrying a couple of drinks and Laura swiftly slid past and tripped him.

The drinks splashed all over Alex’s date. Laura heard her whine about the silk material of the dress, yell a curse word at the water, and then dash to the bathroom to clean up.

_Sorry waiter, I had to. _

Now that Alex was alone she made her move.

“Alex Summers.” She announced resting her hand on the table.

He was in the midst of cleaning up the splash back of the drinks off his leather jacket. Summers studied her head to toe suspiciously; “yeah, who’s asking?” He demanded obnoxiously.

“I’m here to save you.”

He clearly found that ridiculous. He scoffed and took a sip from his drink, “yeah, I don’t need saving, little lady.” 

She went even closer to him. “We need to talk.” 

He threw her a dirty look; “I don’t like talking.”

She got close to him until their elbows knocked and his scowled deepened; “What do you—?”

“There are 3 cops in here; 7 o clock, 12 o clock, and one more by the bathroom,” she whispered to him, her gaze shifting between each of them. They were all pretending not to be watching their table with hawk-eyes. 

"My question is, why does someone like you need 3 police officers to take him down? Is there something dangerous about you, that we don't know about? Besides being a serial arsonist?"

His shoulders went rigid. “You don't even know the half of it. Besides, why should I trust a single word you say?" He said lowering his voice, growing even more suspicious of her, but he wasn’t scared, he wasn’t running.

Perhaps Peter was right, he could be dangerous. 

“How do I know you’re not one of them?” He hissed lifting his drink up to take another swig;

Laura claws slowly unsheathed and poked at his stomach beneath the table. “Because I think we might have similar problems.”

His blue eyes went round. They dropped down to her claws and then back up to her, fast. He rested his drink back onto the table, lips pressed together, relenting;

“Okay, you have my attention. I’m listening.”

“Not here. Follow me, and we’ll loose them.”

She touched her ear piece to talk to Peter; _“_Spidey I need a little distraction to get him out, cut the lights. Anything.”

_“Got it.” _

In the next ten seconds the lights shut off in the bar. Guests groaned and shouted angrily, some whooped. The bar wasn’t pitch black, except for two red emergency lights that cast everyone in red tones. Laura heard the shift in the feet of the cops as they went alert and shuffled fast through the crowd to get to them.

“Come on!” She nudged Alex and picked up the table. Laura tossed it over her shoulder to land on a cops head. Laura pushed through the crowd at the bar, dragging Alex along. She grabbed drinks out of people’s hand and chucked them at someone else, the shouting escalated as they got into arguments and the shoving started. They got to a slim staircase to the employees restricted area and she guided him up the steps.

She cracked open a window in the employee break room and peered outside at the busy street, unsheathing her claws and foot talons.

“I can carry you out,” she said, calculating how far they’d need to run to meet up with Peter a few blocks down. “We need to make distance between us and them. They’re watching the streets but I know a way to avoid them.”

“_Carry me?_” He guffawed, very skeptical. “You’re half my size there’s no way you could carry me!”

Laura rolled her eyes and yanked his arm to take him with her.

...

“Huh consider me schooled,” muttered Alex as Laura hauled him over the roof’s edge when they were safe. 

“Alex.” Peter appeared from the shadows, as Spider-Man.

“Shit,” Alex’s eyes went even wider and he gaped, “you’re him.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Peter extended his hand for Alex to shake. “Sorry we have to meet like this. We know about your powers, we know that you were probably in some trouble and just want to help—”

Alex didn’t take the handshake and took a step back, raising his hands as a warning for them to keep away.

“Easy there bug-boy, who sent you two? I need to know. You got me from the cops, but it’s more than just the cops on my tail.”

“My name is Laura,” she introduced herself, going to stand next to Peter. “We’re just trying to figure out what’s going on.”

“We think you might be like us. Is that true?” Peter asked.

Alex folded his arms and regarded them suspiciously, still not allowing himself to give anything away. “Maybe, maybe not.”

“I showed you what I could do. No one else knows except for him,” Laura pointed her thumb at Peter. “And we want to help you.” She tossed her hoodie off to uncover her hero-suit and pulled her mask on

“How do I know you’re not secretly working for the cops?” Said Alex. “Or worse?”

“You don’t,” Laura lifted her shoulders. “I understand that you don’t trust us, but we don’t know you either. You could be working for them to set us up, and neither of us would know it,” she pointed out, pulling that explanation out of her ass. “I’ve had to hide who I am as well.”

“What do you say, Alex?” Peter encouraged lightly.

Alex took a deep breathe in and squared his shoulders. “Stand back.”

Laura and Peter did so; they weren’t going to take any chances here after Madeline.

Alex’s brow furrowed as he tried to focus on a spot on the ground. Laura and Peter held their breaths waiting for it. Right before their eyes, wisps of red light formed around Alex’s torso and arms. Instinctively, Laura took another step back and held onto Peter’s arm.

The red light around him grew within moments into rings, the veins on his arms bulging as he gritted his teeth, struggling to control it. He put his arms together and the rings burst forth from his body directed at a TV dish. It exploded into flames and took four-foot length of brick wall with it.

Peter and Laura stood, stunned, her mouth hanging open.

Alex fell to his knees, gasping, the red light dissipated as quickly as it appeared.

Laura jogged to him, speechless at first, “that—that was amazing,” she said, helping him to stand. His arms were warm as a furnace.

“Your powers. Is that what caused those fires?” Peter asked him.

Alex was quiet but that was an answer enough. “I wanted to be locked away,” he told them sombrely, standing up slowly. “I had to be. And then I got out. Too early. Not because of good behaviour, but because _they _wanted me, because of what I could do. I was their experiment.” He looked to them with a bitter look; “I burnt the place down and escaped, except now in addition to those assholes I have the cops after me too. I can’t trust anyone, especially if they have cops on their payroll,” said Alex, his hand was closed in a fist and it started to glow red like before in his rage.

It was clear the cops knew he was a powered individual, and were trying to handle things on their own. But Alex was right; cops could be bought too, 

“I will burn down everything and anyone that tries to take me back to that place.”

“Who kidnapped you?” Laura asked him.

“I don’t know. To me, he’s just...the Doctor,” Alex swallowed uneasily and looked to the ground lost in the difficult memories. “They put me in this glass pod thing, like I was an alien. Floating in water, IV lines stuck everywhere. Oxygen mask on 24/7, my eyes were always closed. It was pure darkness everyday, except when they did their tests. They cuffed my hands so I couldn’t use my powers,” he told them. “They were studying me, with... pain, trying to brainwash me into becoming the ‘future warriors of this country’ some shit like that. I don’t remember how long I was in there for, it felt like years of agony. It was fucked up,” he heaved out a deep breath and looked at them;

“But he’s got a boss.”

“How do you know?”

“The doctor sounded scared. An evil piece of shit like that, there’s got to be someone worse than him to make him piss his pants. I think he’d lost track of some other kid.”

Peter and Laura looked at one another worriedly, “and you escaped after that?” Laura queried. 

“I’d lost hope, I was weak with all the meds they pumped in me to sedate me. But I managed to escape by blasting through the place,” he looked down at his hands as though they weren’t real. “I don’t get it either, whatever was in my hands I let it radiate off my body instead. And it worked.”

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” said Peter sincerely, Laura didn’t know what to say next; it was so much information in one go that she felt sick to the stomach to think one of those kids could have been her.

“So it’s true they collect kids.”

“There were at least 4 others with me, that I’d seen,” said Alex. “I don’t know where they are now. It felt like I was alone in there.”

“What happened when you first got your powers?” Laura asked him, stepping towards him. “Was it after the Blip?” 

He frowned in thought, “now that you mention it, yeah. A month after, I was sick. So sick I thought I was going to die and then woke up with them. I couldn’t control it, it just wanted to escape from me, and then it was too late...” he gulped, his jaw tight. “Did that happen to you, too?”

Laura nodded. “We think the Blip caused our dormant genes to mutate. It’s sort of like cancer but instead we get these,” she said lifting her fists to indicate her claws. “Everyone we’ve come across is different. There was a girl, her name was Madeline she was like us... but she’s dead now.”

His features went through phases of confusion and then blinked at them in astonishment; “No. _Mutated genes?_ Fuck me, why? Why?” Harrumphed Alex, frustrated, cupping his face with his hands. “These ‘powers’ have given me nothing but trouble. I’m lucky to be alive, and so are you.” He said to Laura. “I know what you’re trying to do, you’re trying to be a hero,” he pointed at her, scanning her up and down, then shook his head again with a grave look. “Trust me, it isn’t worth it. When they know what we are, that there are more of us; they’ll get scared. They’ll turn on us or enslave us.”

From the sound of it Alex truly believed that. Laura didn’t want too, but that tick of fear crept in nonetheless. She stopped to consider how society was going to react to their existence, because it was impossible for them to hide forever; 

"People like us have existed before the Blip, they survived, they helped others. Why would that change?" 

"The world has changed, Laura," said Alex gravely, like she was so naive. "It used to be a couple of people who had abilities, policed by our world leaders; some were born with them, some used tech, some got it by accident, through science. We're not like that. From what you said, we were always meant to become this. And there's more of us, than them."

“Can you tell us how they tracked you down?” Asked Peter as Alex was going off track.

“I don’t know—”

Laura picked up on the sound of screeching tires from the distance and a whirring noise that was much closer. Abruptly she raised her palm up, “something’s coming!”

“The cops?” Peter asked, worriedly.

She whipped her head around as something shot for her, grabbing onto her shirt and yanking her through the air. Laura screamed. She sliced through it like rope, as the source of it came into view;

A humanoid robot, 7 feet tall with hook shaped scorpion-like projections out of its shoulders and tentacles coming out of it’s back sprung onto the roof. The ground shaking beneath their feet. It’s tentacles grew longer and longer. It scurried and fell onto the roof top with the three of them. It was not a Sentinel; this was another beast entirely. 

“Oh fuck!” Alex yelled and dashed away but it’s tentacles shot out in a blur and snatched him, throwing him face down into the ground.

Peter went to work to detain it by circling it with webs, but it cut through them like they were made of tissue. He kept trying to dodge it’s attacks, but he was off beat, barely making it, mostly scurrying away;

“It’s too fast for me!” He shouted to her as she helped Alex to his feet. She spun about and sprinted to hop onto it’s back. She was mid-air and without turning it’s tentacles caught her and snaked around her again and again, like a python, squeezing her ribs together, until she was gasping for air.

Alex was struggling, the red light of his powers smoking from his hands. He stood up and threw a few blasts of energy to the robot. It waved it’s head about, a good enough distraction as Peter was in the midst of tangling its tentacles; looping beneath one, making knots.

One of Alex’s energy blasts helped free Laura and she dived down and sliced at it’s calf, then up through its back. Peter was spinning around them, he had controlled the remaining tentacles after Alex’s damage.

“Hold it down!” She yelled to him as she flipped onto it’s shoulder. Laura wedged her claws into it’s neck and hacked it’s head off with three clean cuts. The robot froze, sagged and de-powered, sparks of electricity sputtering from it’s severed neck.

As it started to collapse, Laura hopped off. The sound of cops cars was still close, there was no time to piece together to try to understand what they had just fought.

“Come on! We need to go!”

“_Go? _What was the hell was thaaAAH!” Peter snatched onto Alex and took him up 50 feet into the air.

“Greenville Avenue in 10!” His yell echoed down to her.

Laura bounded across roof tops and along the iron railings of the apartments of the city. They arrived at the building with graffiti water tower on top of it, their favourite rendezvous point. Peter had Alex in tow and settled him down.

“Jesus Christ do neither of you give any warning before you _do_ that?!” Alex shouted at them, clutching his head as the light-headedness of swinging got to him. His hair a mess on the top of his head.

“Someone’s after us, and they want us dead,” Peter replied.

“What if it’s after me?” Alex jumped in, anxious, and rightly so. “I can’t fight that alone, I don’t know how, and with the goddamn cops on top of that-“

“Then we’ll get you out of here,” Peter told him steadfastly, he turned to Laura for a moment. “You were right about this. What happened wasn’t your fault, we know that now,” he looked back to Alex. “You didn’t deserve what happened to you.”

By now it was evident that Alex’s lack of control over his powers was what caused the fires he was charged for. It made her feel reassured to have Peter on the same page again when it came to dealing with mutants, instead of just going along with whatever the police thought was the best.

“You can help me get out of the city?” Alex asked him.

“Yes,” Peter straightened. “I’ll map it out and we’ll find the safest route for you to leave. I’ll be there every step of the way. I promise you, we won’t stop until the people who are doing this, are gone.” 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help,” said Alex looking to both of them, longer at Laura, “and sorry I was an asshole to you at the bar.”

She smirked, but meant well. “It’s okay. No hard feelings. Thanks for our having our backs just now, you did help,” assured Laura. She’d never seen anything like him in in her entire life. But he couldn’t stay and help them whilst being a wanted man, and not everyone had the call to be a hero; some chosedifferent lives entirely, and some people just needed time.

She went up to him and slipped him a piece of paper with her phone number on it. “If you’re ever back in town and need us. Call me.” 

He still looked so lost. “I’ve wanted answers for so long, and now that I have this little bit of hope…I can’t stay,” lamented Alex.

The world was cruel like that. “I know. I wish we had more time to figure this out as a team,” she said to him, a deep sadness settling into her chest.

Alex lifted his blue eyes to her, genuinely concerned. “Laura... you should leave too,” he said. “They might be after you, but you just don’t know it yet. No one should go through what I did."

Laura was never the type to run, no matter the danger. Besides, she had a whole life here she couldn’t abandon; a school she liked, a new family and Peter.

“I can’t, I’m sorry, I have to be here for my family and to help the others,” she told him empathetically. “Contact us whenever you can and we’ll share any new updates we have on this with you.”

He nodded, understanding, but solemn. “Then… I hope you don’t get killed. You too, Spider-Man,” he nodded to Peter.

“Right back at you,” she replied wryly. Laura stepped to him and extended her hand and he shook it; a promise and a good luck wish wrapped in one gesture.

He gave a heavy sigh, but his blue eyes sharpened, “promise me you’ll get those bastards who did this." 

Laura swallowed, _easier said than done, _they all knew that. But she nodded firmly anyway, past any doubts or fears.

When their hands let go of one another; it was as though they’d known one another for years by then, perhaps that happened when you knew were you the same but at the same time; _different _together.

Spider-Man would be able to move out of this city faster than her. Peter motioned Alex to him and they set off once more swinging into the night, getting smaller and smaller in the distance, taking him furthest as he could go to the city limits. She hoped it wasn’t the last she would see of Alex Summers.


	10. Chapter 10

**Peter**

“Up here!” He called to her. Peter landed from above and onto the balustrade of the church, balancing on the one-foot wide rail with ease. Laura clung to facade beneath him a little scowl over her face;

“Okay we get it you win.”

Peter laughed brightly. Laura punched her claws into the brick and propelled herself to land beside him.

“You-Whoa!” She lost her footing and arched backwards about to fall.

“I got you!” Peter quickly grabbed her arms to stop her. She inhaled sharply as her balanced steadied. He couldn’t see the rest of her face because of the mask but her eyes were on him for a long moment. He was about to ask if she was okay, when she said it herself. “I’m good, thanks.” 

He dropped his hands, “maybe you’ll catch up to me next time, eh? Knife-Girl.”

The corners of her eyes crinkled and he knew she was making a sour-face beneath the mask. “Ugh terrible name, try again." 

“You have to choose something,” he chided.

She scratched the back of her neck. “Uh yeah, I’ll get around to it, I’ve just been swamped with school and track practice.”

“We can study for the chem test together if you want.” It was almost sunset, he didn’t have any other plans for the rest of the day.

Laura hesitated. “Nah, it’s okay, I… have a party to go to.”

Did he forget her telling him this? “Oh, really? I didn’t hear about-“

“It’s at William Seymore’s place,” she explained, “it’s his sister’s birthday party, but he invited everyone.” 

Peter folded his arms, admittedly he wasn’t a fan of that crowd. “Those guys are Flash Thompson’s group of friends.”

She shrugged, her palms out, rationalising it; “yeah well—I mean people mix around these days right? It’s not like the nineties or whatever.”

“Good point, have fun,” he unfolded his arms, trying not to sound thrown off by it. He kept telling himself he wasn’t. “Don’t drink too much,” he offered, to curve the uncomfortable exchange.

“Hah, I couldn’t get wasted even if I tried,”she said, regarding her crazy fast metabolism. “Get home safe. I’ll see you at school.”

She waved and ran along the length of the balustrade, leaping the twenty feet gap to next tower, her claws raking against the roof tiles.

Peter looked ahead at the lengthening shadows of the church towers on the gardens below and the dusky pink sunset around him. He was on the last leg of his neighbourhood rounds before heading home. It was weird that they were socialising with other people,_ well that she was socialising with other people_-specifically with the jocks from their high school. Peter and Ned were always in the same friend group, the same band or decathlon teams. It's not that he felt left out- he didn't want to hang out with the most narcissistic kids from his school.

_I guess I'm just worried she'll prefer them over me_. 

_Enough Peter, don't think like that, she's still your friend. _Swinging through the city always made him forget his insecurities. Folks cheered him on, his heart felt whole yet light at the same time to put a smile on someone's face. He did this everyday, that he instinctively knew where to aim his webs. The exact building ledge, the most stable beam on a cell tower; which row of city blocks he could run across to cover as much ground as possible. It made him believe he was part of something bigger than he was, bigger than the minuscule Peter Parker problems he had. 

He did have a lot on his mind; the science fair, the safety Alex Summers, the internship, bringing up his grades-

His Spider-senses picked up on an argument in the skatepark below him; 

“I think we’ll take this, Jerry.” A bulky kid, with a small posse behind him, snatched the skateboard from Jerry.

“Stop! That’s mine, give it back to me!"

_Ah school bullies, my favourite kind of shithead._

He swooped down and perched on the basketball hoop. The bully’s faces drained of colour.

“Hey Jerry, these kids giving you trouble?”

“S-Spider-Man?” Jerry croaked, the whites of his eyes wide in shock. “Is this real?" 

“Guys. Jerry helps me keep this neighbourhood safe, right, Jer?” Peter nodded to him, and Jerry looked back and forth between Spiderman and the bullies, then he slowly nodded, going along with it.

“So if you are messing with him, you’re messing with me,” Peter pointed at himself. “Grab your board Jerry, let’s go,” he landed next to the kid; Jerry-with much-needed confidence- squared his shoulders and grabbed his board from the grasp of his bullies. 

“I’ll walk you home,” Peter told him, and off they went, both of them feeling a lot better than they did before.

* * *

**Laura**

Laura sneaked her phone out under her desk in the middle of class. Peter was across the school in AP Physics.

_Laura: ‘Do you think he’s safe? Alex I mean.’ _She typed.

_Peter: _ _I put a tracker on him._

She tisked her under breath, _so sneaky. _Laura glanced around to make sure her teacher was still at the front.

_Laura: ‘PETER PARKER!’ _

_Peter: it seemed like a sensible thing to do! _

A huge disrespect to his privacy he means. _‘Does he know?’ _She wrote.

_Peter:_ _um…._

_Laura: _-_____-

_Peter: he’s headed to Chicago. Livin' his life. He’s safe. _

Peter sent her a screenshot of the tracking map as proof, a red circle symbolizing Alex. As nice as it was to see him far away from the dangers of New York, she couldn't help but feel guilty for sending him off on his own to face the world. The people after him had a wider reach than any of them could even comprehend. 

_Laura: yeah I guess that’s a good thing. I'm still scared for him though. _

_Peter: I’m still looking into that bot that attacked us. _

After extensive research the other night it seemed as though nothing like that existed on the market. They needed to figure out who made it.

_Laura: IMO it was like it was specially made for u. It surpassed your Peter tingle and it held you down pretty easily. It’s not a Sentinel._

_Peter: good point! Means it could be from our Earth since it knows my moves, some of yours too._

She imagined Peter jotting the note down on one of his endless lists whenever his brain was firing with a swam of ideas.

_Laura: scary dude, that’s real scary. _

_Peter: I know. On a lighter note: come with me to the Osborn fundraiser, pretty pls :) _

She snorted, that sounded like the worse way to spend her Sunday evening.

_Laura:_ _LOL why do you have a 2 second attention span over text as well? And do I really have to go? _

_Peter: hahaha. Oh c’mon Laura. He invited you too! It’d be rude not to go. I even had a suit made ;) _

_Laura: what? Like another spider-suit? _

_Peter: nope. like a suit, suit. _

She closed her eyes and pictured what he’d look like in a suit. She decided that it’d fit him well. _He’d look good._ She then told her brain to shut up. 

_Laura: Can u even afford that? _

_Peter: if you’re besties with Harry Osborn then yeah. _

Laura bit her bottom lip; Harry wasn’t as bad as she thought he was. But if Harry was there, chances were Penelope was going to show up as his plus one. She wasn’t looking forward to an extra dose of her wonderful track Captain on top of already dealing with her during team practice, the number of practices having escalated since the team had a chance to qualify at regionals. 

_Laura: i’ll think about it. Plus, I don’t have anything to wear to a fancy fundraiser. I’ll be a potato.’ _

_Peter: ‘Nonsense. You’ll look perfect in anything! _

Laura smirked to herself like she had a secret no one else knew. _Goddamit Peter. _She set her phone down, forcing herself to focus on the whiteboard.

_He’s just being nice; he’s just being nice, _she chanted to herself.

* * *

**PETER **

He texted Laura to ask if she wanted to grab lunch. Normally, she was quick to say yes, but she was taking longer than usual. He went to her locker and spotted her chatting to several track and field teammates and a few cheerleaders. She said something and everyone burst out laughing. He slowed down, the anxiety causing an uptick to his heart rate. If he could avoid her teammates like the plague he would, but it was getting harder to do that the more she hung out with them.

Before he could escape, Laura spotted him and waved.

The cheerleaders threw him puzzled looks, as if they’d never seen him before in their lives, when he knew all of their names since freshman year. Majority of them were nice, but for some reason Laura had caught the attention of the meaner ones. 

“Hey Peter."

He pulled his backpack straps with his thumbs so his hands were occupied. “Hey, you want to go for lunch?” He looked to Laura expectantly.

“Wait, are you ‘Penis Parker?’” One of the cheerleaders scoffed, her friends flanking her snickered. The snide comment was meant to embarrass him and it worked. Peter blushed and wanted to sink into the floor.

“That's a dumb joke Flash made,” Laura whipped her head to the cheerleader; “and I think we can all agree he’s not funny, and anyone who does find it funny has the lame sense of humor of a 9 year old boy." 

The cheerleader went pale and shut the hell up, she was essentially calling the _cheerleaders _in their high school douchebags, and rightly so. Peter had to stop his jaw from dropping. This was his best friend they were talking about. Astonishingly, everyone mumbled a yes and passed around remarks about how Flash was unoriginal with his jokes. _Holy crap, the jocks listen to her._

“No lunch for us we have a team meeting, Coach wants to talk about our new strategy for the meet on Saturday,” Julie told Peter.

“Saturday? _This _Saturday?” He repeated, eyes wide to Laura. “As in the same day we have our science fair?”

“Excuse us for a second,” Laura said to her teammates and pulled him aside. “I’m so sorry Peter, it had to be rescheduled. There’s no other day, I’m so, so sorry you’re only hearing about it now. I had plans to find you as soon as the meeting was over and tell you myself." 

“So you have to miss the entire fair? Are you kidding me? We’ve been working on it for months, Laura. We can’t just abandon it.”

“Don't worry Peter, I figured it out; you’ll manage our booth for the first half of the event without me,” she said. “I spoke to Mr B, and he said he can move us to last slot to present to the judges.”

“Last slot?” He took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the competition on his shoulders. “We’ll have so many great presentations to live up to before that, I don’t know...”

“We know the ins and outs of this of _our _project,” Laura grabbed his arms. “We just need to focus on what we have to offer, and not on what anyone else brings to the fair.”

“Okay,” he decided, after giving it a quick thought; “I guess it doesn’t make a difference when we present, as long as the quality of the project is there.”

“Exactly.”

* * *

**LAURA**

After changing the project prompt around 3 times over the course of 2 months, they finally settled on ‘what would happen if you fell into a blackhole?’

They were inspired through missions with inter-dimensional portals and she was quite proud of the posters they made. The centerpiece was a diorama of a black hole made of LED lights, paper-mache, and twisted coloured string. It looked like it was floating in space. She helped Peter set up the booth in the school gym. Afterwards they walked together to the bus parking lot to see her off for the track meet with Harrison Tech. 

“Have you sent off the self-directed porn yet?” Asked Laura with a shit-eating grin.

“Self-directed—?” He gave her a deadpan look when he got what she meant. She bent over laughing.

“You won’t even let me see the pictures you took in your Spidey suit.”

“Cuz any pose I do, makes you explode in laughter anyway,” he said sourly, but she knew he enjoyed the banter. “The lighting in the Spidey pics are a bit off, once I get the right filter on them and send them to the press, I’ll be the one laughing and rolling in money.”

“You can treat me to ice cream,” she lightly bumped her fist into his shoulder.

“I can treat both of us to ice cream if we win today. You’ll be back in time right?” He asked her, worriedly. “You’ll finish your race, and come straight back to school, as promised?”

“I will personally drive the school bus back here in time for our slot,” Laura assured him. “No one will stop me from sitting behind that booth with you.”

“Phew, okay, okay, it’s fine,” he muttered to himself more than her, his voice always going a little higher when he was nervous; “I can talk to total strangers about a project we have been working on for 2 months, no big deal. I can sell it. I can do that by myself, no biggie at all.”

“Trust me Pete, when you get into the groove of it, you’ll be unstoppable. The best salesman in there.”

“Thanks,” he said, a bit more calm now. “And you? How do you feel about the track meet?”

“I have a good feeling about it. But I’ll be thinking about you—and the fair,” she added quickly, hoping he didn’t notice how she averted her gaze. “I’m sorry I can’t be here for the opening.”

“It’s okay.” Peter wasn’t the kind of friend to be forceful and pushy. She liked that about him. “You’ll be back soon enough, after you take our track and field team to regionals,” he high-fived her.

“Laura! I saved you a seat!” Julie Anderson stuck her head out of the bus window. “We need you to give us pointers for the run!”

“Yeah Jules I’ll be right there!” Laura replied, cranking her perkiness to maximum. “Go team!” She called, throwing her fist up in team spirit, ironically or literally she didn’t even know anymore.

“Oh hey Gary!” Julie called and Laura realized she was referring to Peter. “Are you coming for moral support to cheer us on?”

Peter looked fed-up and pointed at himself; “for the last time, I'm not Gary—”

“He’s here for the science fair,” Laura interrupted him; she needed to hurry this goodbye along with everyone waiting for her. “I’ll join you guys in a second!”

“That was hella rude,” Peter scowled. "What's with the 'go team'? I'm getting second hand embarrassment from that."

“It's just stuff we throw around to get pumped up," she said, blushing. Her mind was buzzing about the races today, qualifying for regionals, the college reps coming, rushing back to Midtown in time to pitch their project to the judges. It was a lot. “There's so much happening today I feel like throwing up from the nerves." 

"Me too, but we'll make it through, we always do."

"I feel like the team is counting on me to win today. Is this the pressure you feel? When people count on you?” She lowered her voice; “as Spidey?”

“Always." Peter being as easy-going as he was, forgot about the painfully awkward exchange with Julie. “You can do this; you run like the wind, Kinney.” He saluted her, and then opened his arms out for their second hug ever. Laura embraced him happily.

It was snuggly and warm. She caught herself smiling, and so did Penelope, whom was watching them from the distance. Her expression was blank but Laura knew her mind must have been cooking up a juicy rumour.

“Good luck,” she said to Peter, letting go. “I’ll see you soon.”

...

Julie Anderson did up her laces before wandering onto the Harrison Tech track field. Suddenly, she smelt the scent of cinnamon and her mother’s Lilies wrapped into one. As she straightened, Penelope’s tanned long legs appeared before her.

“Hi Julie,” she greeted with a big smile.

“Hey Penelope, didn’t see you there-!”

She stared at the glint in Penelope’s brown eyes, transfixed, and her speech slowed to a halt. She’d never noticed how intense they were before.

“I want you to go out there get the race next to Laura,” said Penelope, her voice lowered, the smell of cinnamon wafting into her nostrils so strong it made her dizzy. “Run faster than you ever have before. You are going trip Laura when you’re the closest to her. You’re going to very sorry about it too, add some tears okay?” She patted her shoulder. “You’re also going to forget this conversation ever happened.”

Julie swallowed nervously, her throat constricting and her mind blanking. Then, all she wanted to do was follow through with what Penelope commanded her to do; trip Laura, lie about it, and cry.

Inherently, she_ knew_ it was an awful thing to do, but it was like her conscience was locked in a prison for the time being, her body was moving on autopilot.

“Okay,” she agreed, tears springing into her eyes, a gut-wrenching sadness filling her. She nodded dumbly, her legs carrying her body towards the field. “I’ll-I’ll do it, Penelope. Whatever you want.”

* * *

**LAURA **

They arrived early to Harrison Tech. Coach was neurotic that way and wanted them to do pre-race warm-ups as a team. Laura headed to the start of the race line just as Julie came up next to her.

Laura waved to her cheerfully; “you pumped?” She asked her. Julie swallowed nervously and turned from her, her reaction puzzled Laura.

“Race you to the end?” Laura called, teasing, wondering if Julie was too much in her own head today. They had a lot weighing on winning, but Julie was never one to fall under pressure, or she knew how not to show it. She normally laughed out loud and joked with her at the starting line.

Instead she looked afraid and upset.

Laura, wanted to ask her what was going on, when Coach Harries appeared.

“Alright, take it easy folks. It’s just a warm-up. On your mark. Get set. GO!”

On the blare of his whistle, she set off at her usual pace, maintaining that good running posture, keeping her abs tight and her legs moving lightly on the field. She heard Julie gaining on her, on her right.

_That’s good, she’s faster today._

But halfway through, Julie’s leg kicked out and tangled with Laura's mid-run. They both toppled forward and over one another onto the track.

She groaned and sat up on all fours. _What the hell? _She had bloody grazes on her elbows and knees. Laura plopped onto her butt as the grazes healed immediately.

Julie wasn’t so lucky.

Laura hurried over to her at her first cry of pain. She was on the ground, clutching her ankle.

“Julie!” Coach shrieked and fell to the ground beside her. He delicately touched her ankle and lifted it as she hissed in pain. “Oh. Okay, okay it’s an ankle sprain,” he said after a quick exam. "What about you Laura? Any pain anywhere?" 

"I'm totally fine, not a scratch." 

The rest of the team gathered around, Laura couldn’t help but notice Penelope lingering behind them, a stone-cold look over her features. “The track meet is in an hour, she can’t run the races, coach!” Darren lamented to no one’s benefit. “There are college reps coming!”

Laura looked worriedly between the coach and Julie.

"I was supposed to run the sprints,” Julie said, tearful. Their team was small; they needed every single person there.

Coach, concerned, scratched his head. “We can’t compete like this, let's see-“

“I’ll run her races!” Laura offered without a second thought, her arm shooting up.

Coach’s shoulders fell, he gave her that 'let's be real' look; “Kinney, you’re a great sport, but you have your own races. We can't spread ourselves—“

“I can sprint,” she insisted.

“You can’t do that, Kinney. You’ll be dogged tired after running the long distance—“

“I can run them. I’ll do it. You know I can,” she assured him confidently. There was nothing she couldn’t do now that she had her powers.

“We deserve to be here, right?” She looked around at the faces of her teammates. “Those reps came to see _us._ We can’t give up, we’ve worked so hard to get here.”

“Her races are the last ones of the day. Are you sure?” 

“I’ll do my best,” Laura nodded with a determined look. “For all of us and for you,” she clutched Julie’s elbow with an encouraging smile.

“Laura-I’m so, so sorry,” she told her, sniffing. “I don’t know what happened-I just-I just-“

“It’s okay. It was an accident. At least it was just a sprain and not anything worse. Have you not been sleeping well? You seem more stressed than usual.” Midterm exams were upon them and she had trouble sleeping some days too, moonlight as a superhero didn't help either. 

“I don’t know,” she shook her head, her blonde ponytail swishing behind her. “I’ve been sleeping fine. I was just talking to-to Penelope and then suddenly...” she stammered, and started to tremble, “I-I was on that track and I-I can’t say anymore. I don’t know or maybe I don't remember…”

_Of course it’s always something to do with Penelope. _

* * *

**Peter **

Peter bit his nails anxiously. He sat down behind his project booth, hoping no one stopped by while he was on the verge of a mental breakdown. _Where is she? Where the hell is she? _He checked his phone for the hundredth time. Laura hadn’t answered any of his calls or his texts.

His knee was restless beneath the table, he flipped his phone over again, nothing, exactly as it was when he last checked 20 seconds ago.

“Gah!” Peter moaned and wiped his hands over his face. _This is disaster, a complete and utter disaster. _

His heart jolted when his phone buzzed on the desk and he grabbed it.

_Laura: Peter_

He typed furiously;

_Peter: where are you?????? Our slot is in 10 minutes!_

Nothing else in the world mattered but what she would type after the grey dots disappeared. He hoped he wasn’t being an asshole by being so demanding. He just wanted her to be okay and be here with him, his partner, his teammate. He was worried something had happened to her, especially considering how Alex Summers had been hunted by the mysterious Doctor.

_Laura: Julie sprained her ankle. Someone needs to run her races. _

Peter’s lips were pressed thinly together. He couldn’t believe what he was reading. Two freshmen came up to his booth, opening their mouths to ask him a question, but he scooted 180 degrees in the chair brusquely ignoring them.

_Peter: so you’re doing it?? _

_Laura: yes. I’m sorry. I’ll be a bit late._

_Peter: are you serious? This is so last minute! You said you would be able to handle both things on the same day! I was counting on you. _

He was fuming on the inside. Everything was falling apart.

_Laura: I’m really sorry Peter. I’ll make it up to you. You know the presentation at the back of your hand-_

He had the urge to toss his phone onto the ground, but instead he flipped it over onto the table without bothering to read the rest of her text. It was only making him more pissed off by the second with what a shitty friend she was being lately.

He couldn’t stop her from attending the track meet; he wouldn’t do that, Peter knew how much it meant to her.

But did she really need to stay back so late? Couldn’t someone else replace Julie? He didn’t ask for much, he just wanted her to stick to her word. They had worked on this for forever and it was all going down the drain with her absence. It was almost as if she never cared about it to begin with.

_Was she lying the entire time? Just pretending to give a crap for my sake?_

“Peter.”

He lifted his head up from his wallowing and saw Harry Osborn. His eyes widened with genuine surprise;

“Dude, you actually came.” Who would have thought that out of the millions of inhabitants of New York City he would become friends with the Harry Osborn? Or that he would actually attend his high school science fair. Harry could be doing so many other things; flying off to Europe for a spontaneous holiday, attending some fancy tech launch, partying it up until the early hours, but no— he was here for Peter.

_I can’t say the same for Laura, the most unreliable partner there is. _

“Yeah man to support you,” said Harry. He was also dressed too nicely for a science fair hosted in their basketball court; a simple button up shirt and slacks but he knew (from watching him online-shop for gifts for Penelope and himself) he probably spent 200 dollars on the shirt alone.

Peter often wondered if Harry inherited his dad’s effortless charm that let him smooth talk his way through life. But he knew Harry always meant what he said.

He peered around at the booths next to him, which clearly had two participants each, while Peter was sat alone; “um, where’s your science fair partner?”

“Fashionably late,” he replied gruffly. He didn’t want to make a big deal out of it in front of such a levelheaded guy like Harry. “I have to present to the judges on my own.”

“Ah, well, shit happens right?" Harry came around and sat down in the seat next to him. “I’m sure you’ll do great without her— Oh shit, here come the judges.”

**...**

Peter hoisted the first place trophy up and wandered out to the car park to wait for Aunt May. He nodded at the other participants and teachers passing by congratulating him, throwing them a stiff smile or a quick nod. He peered down at the trophy plate, seeing the ribbon-like reflection of himself in the gold, a hollow feeling in his chest.

“Peter.”

He heard her strained voice drift towards him. He turned around, his heart sunk like a stone, and then instantly propelled up to his throat. 

She was out of breath as she’d been running to catch up with him. Her varsity jacket was thrown over her running jersey and shorts; her shoes were muddy and hair in a sweaty ponytail.

“Shit—I’m sorry—”

“We won by the way,” He stayed where he was and tossed the trophy at her. She caught it with ease, which he was annoyingly thankful for because Peter would’ve hated himself if it actually hit her forehead.

“First place....wow,” she looked up at him, genuinely amazed, “that’s—this is fantastic, Peter—I—”

“Yeah. No thanks to you,” he said harshly. “I had to do it on my own. Where were _you__?”_

She stared at him helplessly; “Peter—”

“Let me guess,” he stopped her; “somewhere with the track team.”

“I told you what happened.” She entreated, going up to him. “There were college reps in attendance and Julie was hurt. It was important to me, and them, and they needed me—”

“So did I,” he retorted, grabbing the trophy from her in a huff, blind with anger and hurt. He didn’t really care what her excuse was this time. “This was important to me. I thought it was important for _both_ of us. We were committed to this and you had a responsibility to be here. Yet you ditched me, you ditched the whole thing!”

“You didn’t need me, Peter.”

_Yeah I didn’t._

“You could do it on your own. You won for the first time in years. It’s yours, alright? The trophy the prize money, all of it. I’m happy for you—”

She was completely missing the point. "You don’t get it. It’s not about some stupid trophy.” He gripped the edge of it tighter, like it was all he could hold onto to, to stop him from really losing his temper, but it didn't work, he'd bottled up too much by this point. “I thought we doing this hero thing together. That we could rely on each other and you can’t even show up for that on time too.”

Laura blinked at him. “Wait, _what?_ That was one time. Are you mad at me about this, or what happened with Alex Summers?”

“Lives are at stake, Laura! There are people we have an obligation to protect! This is the second time you’ve shown up late to something important. It doesn’t matter to me if you flaked on this science fair stuff, but it does when you flake on the missions we set out to complete." 

“I still care about _the_ mission,” she replied, getting heated. “What happened to Madeline and Alex is happening to me too, don’t forget that.”

“Really? It seems like it’s not as important to you anymore. You’re more preoccupied with being track Captain, parties, being a jock; I don’t even recognize you when you’re around them. They're horrible people Laura. There I said it!"

Peter could let it slide under the rug, but it got harder and harder to do that each time. Everything she said or did around them was to appease them; the Laura he knew when they were alone would never act that way.

“Getting ahead in this world involves interacting with people I may not always be comfortable with,” she argued vehemently. “And _my life_, doesn’t revolve around being Spider-Man’s sidekick.”

That statement really shook Peter. “Is that how you see our friendship? I never thought of you as that. We’ve always been equals in this. But it’s become clear to me that you can’t even stay committed to this cause— you can’t even decide on what to call yourself.” 

"I don’t see myself doing that for the rest of my life, Peter. Grow up,” she hissed. “It’s fun now, and we do help the city, but just because _your_ plan is to be him forever, doesn’t make it mine. Maybe I’m sick and tired of feeling inadequate to my peers, and maybe I want more for myself. I want to go to college—”

“College,” Peter cut in, disparagingly. “Of course. Do they know you’re cheating, Laura? Your team? The college scouts?" 

She glared at him; he’d really crossed the line there;

“What the hell do you mean?”

Peter was sprinting across thin ice now, and it was going to cost him the one friendship he valued;

“The only reason you got on the track team, the only reason that people like you, that you’re popular now—is because you have powers. You have an unfair advantage over everyone here, you know it. You don’t get tired, you can run faster than everyone without breaking a sweat, and you can’t even die.”

It wasn’t like him to say something that cruel, but he did.

He immediately regretted it.

Her features sharpened. "So, I don’t deserve any of this, because I’m ‘cheating?’ That’s what you think?” She said it slowly, like a serpent posed to attack.

Peter swallowed. “Yeah exactly."

She let out a dry laugh, clapped her hand once; “you are such a jealous hypocrite Peter Parker, do you realize that? Don’t tell me that you’ve never used your powers outside of being him.”

He was just beginning to understand the full extent of getting on Laura’s bad side;

“You becoming Spider-Man was an accident,” she said, scathingly. “You were just an average kid; a nobody until you became him. Stark recruited you and that’s when you actually mattered to the grand scheme of all of this. You hide behind Spider-Man, because you prefer being him, he makes you feel like you’re special, and no one is stopping you from using what you can do for whatever you want, yet now you’re criticising me for doing the same? That’s so unfair.” Laura stabbed at her chest; “at least what I am, I was born with it. The only reason I became this, have these freaky abilities, is because you couldn’t save us on some alien planet. Some Avenger you are.”

That cored deep into his chest. The world was silent. He heard the leaves on the car park rustle by their feet. She was right. Most days, he felt like a nobody when he was Peter Parker, but she didn't have to take it so far. 

Her face fell for a moment, and then became unreadable; she waited for the next round of them trading barbs, but Peter had reached his limit. He stared at her brown eyes wondering how long she’d felt that way about him, and if this was what it felt like to be kicked in the stomach by a horse;

“Wow,” he muttered, shaking his head. “That’s a really shitty thing to say. It’s like I don’t even know you anymore,” he took a step back. He was done. He felt nauseous just being around her. He had better things to do than argue with her; “Screw this. I’m leaving.”

* * *


	11. Chapter 11

**PETER**

After another restless night, he woke up feeling groggy, he washed the gunk from his eyes but it didn’t help. He was scruffier than usual when he went in for his Oscorp internship. When he got there, he was distracted, his thoughts muddy. Laura and Peter had not known one another for a long time, but in his mind they had been friends since they were children, yet her actions had been unpredictable to him. Neither did he think he was capable of being such a hateful person.

Except he didn’t hate her, he couldn’t, even though she’d failed to keep her promises, even though she had said all those hurtful things to him. _You threw the first punch in the argument Peter, it was you. _Naturally he was going to find a way to blame himself.

Peter procrastinated doing his internship work and instead sent out the pictures of Spider-Man to the tabloids, hoping they’d gain traction. He was old enough to get a part-time job if he wanted but he didn’t have the time to squeeze that in along with Spidey duties. He could make some money from this. _F__or the college fund, _Aunt May would say encouragingly whilst he turned his down at the shaky uncertainty of his future.

Harry appeared by his desk and suggested they go for coffee, his treat. Peter’s supervisor was never around so he gladly went along without being concerned of getting into trouble.

“You guys are still not talking?” Asked Harry as they walked beside the park; a cold brew for him and a much sweeter drink for Peter with plenty of caramel sauce.

“No, but I think it’s better that we don’t for the time being,” he said. “She’s got stuff to figure out too.”

Harry halted at a park bench, it seemed un-special to Peter;

“My mum and dad used to come here when they were in college together. They’d have lunch here and dad would point at this piece of land,” Harry gestured at the tall, spectacle of modern architecture that was Oscorp; “back when it was just a dirt lot, he would say; ‘one day our dreams will come to life, right there, I know it.’ He doesn't talk about her anymore, or with so much hope in his voice, not since she passed.”

There was a flash of sadness in his eyes; it consumed their conversation. Harry admired his mother a lot. When he reminisced about her, he was always in his own world.

“So where are you thinking of going for college, Peter?” Harry asked, on an abruptly lighter note. He had grown more comfortable with Harry since they met, but the topic was still touchy Peter;

“I don’t know,” he replied, sipping his drink, _maybe the caramel sauce was over-kill. _Laura would’ve made fun of him for being hopeless at ordering at cafes, he always preferred what she ordered. “I haven’t really thought about it yet.”

That was a lie.

“Really? You seem like someone who would have that stuff figured out.”

“Hah, my life for the past year—“ he cleared his throat, _where to begin? Battling Thanos? Losing half the population of the world, including my best friend?_ “It’s been shitty, to put it simply. The people I thought would be here with me now are gone. Yet so many people have fallen on hard times since the Blip, maybe college can wait,” Peter shrugged. “I can make more of a difference helping them.” It was the first time he’d given the idea any weight, he could do more besides being Spider-Man to help the city. “Anyway, I’d definitely need a scholarship if I want to go anywhere, and tuition fees nowadays are cutthroat.”

“Yeah I get it,” said Harry.

Peter very much doubted that, Harry was so oblivious sometimes, but he didn’t want any more confrontations. Oscorp was one of the first science conglomerates to bounce back after the economical crisis. Harry could finish his degree, multiple PhDs, and run several research projects with his trust fund alone.

Not that Harry Osborn was even interested in academics anyway.

“I thought I lost my dad. He was on a plane that went missing after it happened; there are countless stories like that. He survived with a broken leg, and trekked all the way to the nearest gas station, then hitched hiked back to New York. You know how the global economy collapsed and literally the human way of life just froze? He saw it happen in every town passed, he saw the terror unfold across the country. It was awful.”

“That’s Bear Grylls level survival skills. He just wanted to make it back home to his family.”

Harry’s eyes were cold and silent, he snorted. “If that was his motivations, he never said a word about it to me. What about your parents?”

Peter stuffed his hands in his jean pockets, _here it comes_. “Well, my parents died when I was a kid."

“Oh,” Harry stopped. They always fumbled when he told them that. “I’m so sorry, Peter, I had no idea." 

“It’s okay,” the memory of them existed in his heart like a cut that would never heal. “It was a long time ago.” 

_What I wouldn't give to see them one more time though. _

* * *

**Laura **

“Did I do something wrong?” Laura picked up the picture of her mother. Sometimes she talked to her when she felt guilty or had a difficult decision to make. Given how much they bickered, Laura did not realize how much her mother actually fought for her, took care of her when she was alive.

She had been too busy being a know-it-all and a brat.

“I did, didn’t I? I can see it in your eyes,” she was clearly losing her mind with boredom that afternoon. Her mother had brown eyes as warm as summer, but they could raise hell with a single look if Laura misbehaved, which was everyday. “I can’t believe how stupid that the argument was.” She set picture down, blowing her cheeks out in frustration. Laura did not play all her emotions across her face like Peter. She was a closed book and apologizing was hard for her. She always got hot and flustered, thinking she would worsen the situation.

“Then go to the party and apologize to him.”

Riley startled her. “That would be the brave thing to do,” she said with an understanding smile, and sat on her bed. “I imagine that’s what your mum would want.”

She pressed her lips together and looked at the picture. Laura was a baby, not more than 6 months old with a tuff of black hair and rolls of fat on her arms. “My mum would shout at me for being an idiot,” she snickered ironically at the fact, they were always arguing about something. She got into fights back then, when she had no business picking fights with squads of girls who could blind her in one eye. “I never tried hard in anything before. Now, I just want to be someone, my mum would be proud of. She’d be happy to see I made friends, except I feel like I put a face on for one person and change it for another.”

A thoughtful came over her adoptive mother; “I’m glad that you are making friends, and it’s normal to be mingling with different people.” Years of experience came to play in Riley’s countenance. “But as you get older you realize there will always be the handful of individuals that truly care for you, that will always be there for you. Think...who is that person for you now?

Laura exhaled slowly; the answer was as reflexive as blinking. “I was only thinking about myself that day.”

“We all make mistakes and break a few promises,” said Riley. “I’m proud of you no matter what. Don’t put too much on your plate Laura, you’ll buckle under the pressure if you do, be honest with yourself.” Riley leaned forward and kissed her temple. “I think you’ll feel a lot better if you spoke to him,” she indicated the dress she planned to wear to the Oscorp fundraiser. It was ironed and hung on her wardrobe. She had been excited for it all week.

“I think he’ll be happy to see you there.”

* * *

**Peter **

Aunt May squealed with excitement when the Oscorp driver dropped off his custom suit. The one Norman Osborn had generously promised him. He checked himself out in the hallway mirror. Even he had to admit he looked dashing in it.

“Do you think you’ll see Laura, tonight honey?” Asked Aunt May, before seeing him out the front door.

“I don’t know,” he fussed about his tie. In fact he did know Vincent Gerber was having a party and she clicked ‘going’ on the Facebook event page.

“Don’t let that dampen your spirits. You look so handsome, you’re going to meet so many big shots at the fundraiser.” She patted his cheek, wished him luck and sent him on his way.

...

At Oscorp, Penelope arrived, looking stunning in a dark red dress and red lipstick to match. Peter was clearly the third wheel and honestly, he was concerned by the toxic dynamic of their relationship. Harry must be so blindly in love with her if he couldn’t see the many rational reasons they should not be together.

They snuck off to get drinks, but Peter wasn’t alone for long. The man of the night himself, Norman Osborn headed for him. His assistant looked exasperated with her boss, as he deterred from his mingling to chat with the least important person in the room;

He greeted Peter warmly. “I’m glad you’re here, Mr Parker. Where’s your friend? I’d like to meet her and thank her.”

His face was stiff as a board. “She can’t it make it.”

“Ah, that means the spotlight is on you. Has the internship gone well so far? Have you learn a lot?”

“Yes, everything here is great,” he said to be agreeable because he didn’t know what else to say.

“Apologies if I’ve been keeping Dr Randall busy, he is a very important man in the company. He is a man of the future, he grasped the fact that the most important investment we need to make right now, is to our planet, to rebuild the world we lost. Reed Industries, Stark Industries— they lost sight of that. This could be your future, some place you may call home... before you inevitably start a company like this of your own.”

“Oh,” he felt clumsy around compliments. “I’m just trying to pass mid-terms, having something like this of my own seems too far ahead in the future.”

Norman’s eyes were bright and his hands moved swiftly; “It all starts that way, but I believe you have what it takes; a good mind and an excellent work ethic. Yes, now it seems too far to even conceive, but it’s all about changing your perspective on it,” he advised, Peter gripped onto every word. “You always need a place to start, an idea, perhaps it’ll change along the way, but that’s the beauty of science, isn’t it? Now, Harry told me about your research into the blackhole that formed in front of Oscorp –”

Peter’s eyes widened with panic.

“Oh don’t blame him, there’s nothing that boy can hide from me.”

“Sir, I’m sorry,” he said, embarrassed. “It’s wrong of me to do personal projects during work hours—”

Norman held a finger up to stop him. “I am impressed. Very impressed,” he empathized. Peter was gleaming like polished silver, with pride.

“The algorithm you developed to determine the velocity of light going into that black hole—it was...how do I put it; phenomenal,” he said, with a sweeping gesture. “Promise me; if you can manage not to talk down about yourself the entire night—I’ll extend your internship, for as long as you want it, _with_ full pay.”

His jaw dropped. “Are you—are you serious?”

“I know talent when I see it. Vivian did you catch what I said?”

“I did sir,” she replied monotonously tapping away on her tablet.

“Make it happen."

Peter was overwhelmed with gratitude; he shook his hand so hard he thought he would snap his fingers off. “This is the best thing—the best news I’ve heard all week,” he blurted near speechless. “Thank you Mr Osborn, I won’t let you down.”

Norman smiled earnestly; he was in good spirits, as usual. “You’re welcome. Now please excuse me, I need to go rub shoulders with fellas from my fraternity; judge who’s gained the most weight and went the baldest. I think I’m winning so far,” he ruffled his full head of hair. Peter laughed, he would’ve laughed at anything, he was so happy. He wished he could leave right now, take a swing through the city cheering at the top of his lungs.

Norman went off but pulled Harry aside for a discreet moment. To his dismay, his enhanced hearing caught their conversation;

“What did I tell you about bringing your girlfriend’s to these events?” Osborn asked through clenched teeth. He firmly held Harry’s shoulder, and not in the cordial manner he had done for Peter. “You’re really scraping the barrel with that one. I’m going to tell the waiters to stop serving you booze, you can’t have too much, remember?”

Harry went pale and anxious.

“—and _Jesus_, try not to mention your stunning history of dropping out of every prep school on the East Coast. It isn’t funny or charming. The more you remind them of it the harder it’ll be for them to forget. You need to be a better influence on your young friends, son. Remember why I asked you to come here in the first place.”

Peter couldn’t imagine Harry Osborn being afraid of anything or anyone. He had the comfort of wealth and privilege. Yet without fail, he could never argue against his father;

Harry nodded somberly. “I’m sorry dad.”

Peter spotted Laura. He did not expect to see her. She had on a champagne colored dress, one shoulder, with delicate silver embroidery at the hem. He was reminded of a Greek Goddess. Her arms were toned and she was graceful in heels.

_You could just go up to her and tell her she looks nice. _Before he could make that call, Harry sidled up next to him and spirited him away to meet some big-shot App developer he’d partied with.

* * *

**Laura **

“Laura, quel surpris, you made it,” greeted Harry, too cheerful and relaxed for such a professional, upscale event.

“I’m sorry I was late." Her eyes swept the venue; a lot of high profile people were in attendance in their subtle yet sophisticated attire. The only semblance of normal was Harry Osborn. If only she could find Peter.

“He went to the bathroom, he has a small bladder,” said Harry, reading her searching gaze. He was waiting for her to spill whatever speech she had planned, but that was her own business.

First things first, she didn't want to be rude to their host;

"I think I’ve talked to everyone here, except your dad. I need to thank him for inviting me.”

Harry frowned unhappily. “Mmhm he’s around here somewhere, I can never get a proper word with him either. His opinion is the only one that ever matters,” he said, with bitterness to it.

_Now _that _is none of my business, either. _

“You want a drink? There’s an open bar,” he gestured to it; it was the most interesting thing in the room to him. “They’ll serve you anything you want. You deserve it for saving my life. My hero.” Was he mocking her? He toasted her and then took a hearty sip of the champagne. He definitely had too many drinks. The sloppy drunken mess version of him was fast approaching, _the one that nearly killed himself. _She still did not understand the events of that night but dared not ask him.

“No thanks. Maybe you need to slow down?”

“You sound like Peter, Jeez, can’t anyone have a little fun around you two?” He rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “He’s been mopey since your fight.”

She couldn’t see what Peter saw in Harry, he had his moments but his douchebag tendencies still made their appearance. “Why are you hiding in the corner?”

He shrugged callously. "Eh, I’ve been sneaking drinks off the waiter’s trays.”

“What are you sneaking around for? Your dad owns the building, you can have anything you want.”

“Yes, but it also means whatever he tells the staff to do, they’ll listen.” He set his glass down and excused himself to the restroom.

Instead of looking for Norman or Peter, Laura spotted Penelope and made a beeline for her. There was still a feeling in her tummy like cherry pit sitting there idle and unsettled. She was a 100% certain Penelope had something to do with Julie’s injuries;

“What do you have over Julie?” She demanded standing in her way.

Penelope was stunned for a second, and then gave her a annoyed look. “Good evening to you too, Kinney.”

“What did you say to Julie?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You said something to her, and it made her not-Julie anymore,” that was the only way she could phrase it. “She’s bubbly and sweet, not the nervous wreck she was at Harrison Tech. She told me she spoke to you before warm-ups. Suddenly she was running off-track and crashing into me. She says she doesn’t ‘remember’ what you said _or_ maybe you threatened her into staying silent and sabotaging the race." 

Penelope lifted her brow at her incredulously and then chuckle. “Jesus, you’re looking for a quarrel aren’t you? _Obviously_ she slipped.”

Laura stood her ground. “She didn’t slip. I know she didn’t."

"Oh, do you have eyes on the back of your head, or something?”

The ground of the track course was smooth. Laura was familiar with the stamina, endurance, and quadriceps bulk of everyone on the team. That was quite psychotic of her. But with her acute senses she couldn’t help it documenting it in her mind. She knew Julie stayed on her lane, until the last second when she _randomly _lunged into her lane to trip her.

But she didn’t tell Penelope any of this, for obvious reasons;

“What leverage do you have on them? On seemingly everyone in this school?”

“You seem to be experiencing some kind of delusional episode, do you need to see a therapist?” Penelope asked with mock concern.

“Peter said something similar about you, from your party. You asked him if he wanted to kiss you and he told me he didn’t want to, but you made him, despite how uncomfortable he was with it. What kind of sick person would do that?”

Penelope snickered wicked teasing in her eyes. “Ohh, I see. You're jealous that Peter wants to kiss me and not you.”

She gave her a disdainful look. "He's my friend-“

“I’ve seen the way you look at him.” Penelope cut in, knowingly. “Stop pretending like you’re not batting your eyelashes at him adoringly every time you talk to him.”

Penelope’s tactic was to rile her up. Yet as she studied her harder, it struck Laura, so clearly. The reason these bizarre things happened whenever Penelope was involved;

“After the Blip. Were you sick? Really sick?"

She scoffed. “Sick? Like did I get the flu, or something? Is there a point to this conversation?”

Her powers manifested with no rhyme or reason. If Laura and Alex had their special abilities, why couldn’t someone as narcissistic and cruel as Penelope have them too? She was risking her newfound popularity by spewing conspiracies, giving Penelope ammo to spread a rumor about her being a psycho.

Laura didn’t care, if it was true she had to stop her from harming anyone else.

“You have powers don’t you? It’s the only explanation that fits. You can make people do what you want them to. I don’t know how, but you can.”

“Powers, really? That’s a reach. You'll say anything to justify your blind accusations.”

Her powers could not manifest like Laura’s, she could not capture it on camera. She had to get an admission out of her. “I’ve met other people like you. They’re scared too. Probably not as uptight... but afraid nonetheless.”

‘Uptight’ was a kinder word than she deserved but she was trying to reach out to her.

Penelope crossed her arms and sighed laboriously. She pursed her lip, and slowly, a sly grin painted them;

“Ah...you got me." 

Just like that, the ruse was over.

“You—wait...so— so I'm right? You have powers?" She couldn't believe she admitted it, she assumed she would give her an uphill battle for it.

"Yeah, I do. Now, why would_ I_ be frightened of myself? Of what I can do? I'm not afraid of anything, Kinney." 

“Do you realize you could be doing so many things? Besides your little manipulative high school games?” She reprimanded her. “You could become the President of this country if you wanted. Change how things are for everyone."

“Oh please, you’re such an idealist, you already know the answer, don’t you?” Penelope gave an irritable sigh. _Just because you can do the right thing doesn’t mean you have to._

_What is wrong with me? _Laura wanted to smack sense into her own head. _This was what Peter meant by using our abilities to our own advantages. _Telling Penelope to control the country was fucked up. _It should never come to that. _

“The effect of my abilities wear off within an hour or so, after that everything goes back to normal.” She spun around towards the restricted access lift. “Now, are you going to stop me or come with me?”

“Where are you going?”

She glanced over her shoulder, a mischievous glint in her eye; “to find what Norman Osborn is hiding.”

Laura claws were itching to come out and reveal it all to her, stop her, arrest her, _something_—it was a dumb and reckless idea. She could not make a single move against her. She didn’t just have her hero identity to protect she also had Peter’s. 

“How are you so sure, there’s anything to find up there?” Laura asked her, knowing that Peter would want her to continue following Penelope_. I need to make sure she doesn’t mind control someone into killing themselves._

“You don’t know a thing about the people in this world that you’re in now, do you? I know a man who’s hiding something when I see it. My father saw it in Norman and so do I. You must be intrigued too, at what a powerful man like Osborn must be hiding in his office.”

She was, but it was still disrespectful, especially when he graciously invited her to his fundraiser. _B__ecause I saved his son from his crazy mind-controlling girlfriend_ _standing next to me. _

“How do you know there’s anything to find in his office of all places?”

“His assistant can run her mouth when you ask her the right questions. She’s asleep in the ladies room right now.”

They approached the guard at the lift. She went up to him, he warned her to stop. She was just far enough not to get tackled but close enough so her powers could work. “You’re going to step aside and give me access to upstairs. After we have reached the top, you’re not going to tell a soul about this. You’re going to go home to your family and go to sleep. Understood?”

The guard was perspiring into his shirt collar, transfixed to her eyes, but he nodded like a puppet. “I will do as you say.”

“Excellent,” Penelope smirked triumphantly.

After he stepped aside, she nudged Laura forward into the lift.

"This doesn’t feel right—“

“His aura was pumpkin space and Thanksgiving turkey. Who the hell loves a holiday that much it would become their aura?" Penelope scoffed in disgust as the lift doors closed on them.

Laura snapped her fingers; “that’s why I smelt my mother’s cookies when you spoke to me on the first day of school, your powers make pheromones that mimic the things we love the most.”

“Ding, ding,” went Penelope, bored. “You’re immune so I can’t make you forget what I did. To be honest, it’s actually refreshing to have someone know the truth and not be scared of me.”

It was then that Laura saw how dangerous Penelope truly was. She had no remorse for what she did, if Laura told anyone what she knew, she could compel it away as if it never happened. _A manipulative sociopath._

“You say that, but part of you must wish I wasn’t immune, so I could do your bidding for a change instead of being a pain in the ass.”

“Sometimes. But the consequences of these powers haven’t always ended well, if I say the wrong thing—” the lift stopped. Penelope’s eyes gleamed with anticipation. “We’re here.”

The office was four times the size of her apartment alone, so much empty space for one man. _A glass throne room to rule the rest of us from the sky. _

"Why are you trying to dig up dirt on Osborn? To sell to page six?”

Her actual reason was far pettier;

"He thinks I'm some whore out to corrupt his son, clearly he doesn't see how dysfunctional his own family is." 

“He might be onto something there.” Laura folded her arms and stood at the threshold. “You asked him to throw himself in front of a moving car. Doesn’t sound like true love to me.”

Penelope scowled at her, her jaw twitched pent up anger. “Like I said—it gets out of hand sometimes, and you don’t know the first thing about Harry and I, alright?”

She rubbed her nose bridge, _God help me. _“Whatever, I don’t know what you expect to find, this is pointless.”

“Powerful men assume they can keep track of everything. But they can’t,” Penelope headed for the sleek oak desk and tried each of the drawers. “They have assistants, butlers, scientists, and errand boys to be their little bitches and hold their empire and sanity together. Well, sanity not so much, they’re all egotistical heartless reptiles I assure you,” she shimmied a lock but it didn’t budge. “My father never trusted him.”

Laura didn’t help her. She peered around to see if there were any cameras in site. “No shit your dad would say that, he refused to sponsor Oscorp.”

“For good reason. Haven’t you always wondered how they were able to resurface form the ashes of the recession so quickly?”

“Corporate bailouts? Stocks? I don’t fucking know.”

Penelope was distracted, she gasped in glee when a drawer opened. However, it was just a collection of expensive colognes. “Mmhm don’t mind if I do.” She picked up the thick glass bottle and spritzed few puffs of cologne all over her self and slammed the drawer shut. A thick sandalwood and musk scent filled the air.

“Are you done? Can we leave?" 

“Calm down Kinney, patience,” she scolded lightly. “In my experience, anything important is always in hard copy and in the closet,” she spun about to the display panels with various historical artefacts and collectors items. She fiddled around and a panel popped out. Inside was a mini closet where spare shirt and ties were kept. There was nothing in there at first glance.

“100% silk,” Penelope ran her fingers over the rainbow of ties. “Let’s try the other panel, shall we?”

“Wait,” Laura went closer to it. “There’s something behind it.”

“Now, don’t fuck with me Kinney.”

“I’m serious.” Laura pressed her hand on it; she could sense the hollow space by the dimensions of the wood panel.

“How do you know?”

“Er... woodshop class.”

“Mr. Perrel’s woodshop class. Really?” She said, very doubtful.

Almost everyday Mr Perrel would sit in the corner reading spy thrillers and yelling at them to be careful with the mini saws. It was an elective-hobby class no one took seriously.

_Except for Peter. _

“If you pay attention, then yeah,” she fibbed. She pushed down on a hook and the rack spun about revealing an old-fashioned safe.

“Damn. Nice one, Kinney!”

“I thought he would’ve used something more high tech than this.”

“Being a devious bad bitch looks good on you,” said Penelope, smiling, possibly the nicest thing she ever said to her, this temporary fre-enemy situation was so bizarre.

“It's locked, but I think I can break it.”

She could have jacked it open with her claws but she was still maintaining the façade that she was normal. “Give me 2 minutes, I need to focus.” Laura pressed her ear to it and listened for the combination lock unlocking. She heard the cogs unwind, click, and fix in place as she turned the dial.

“Did you do it?” Asked Penelope in a loud whisper.

Laura concentrated harder. “Wait...”

“Well?”

“Almost there...got it!”

The safe cracked an inch but didn’t swing open yet.

“Oh my god,” Penelope exclaimed her mouth gaping wide. “You do the honours.”

Her heart raced with anticipation, and slight hesitation. _I shouldn’t be doing this, I should shut the safe and walk out of here_, _Penelope can’t mind-control me to stay. _

Nonetheless, Laura gripped the edge and swung it open.

They expected to find a gun, stacks of cash, or passports at the very least. Instead, there were two pictures lying side-by-side inside, nothing else.

“It’s just these.”

Penelope nearly shoved her aside in her haste to get a proper look; she confirmed it was empty. She snatched the pictures out of Laura’s grasp.

“A picture of him and his dad, and a picture of his mum,” Penelope scanned each one, disappointed by their lackluster discovery.

“He must really love them,” said Laura, offering a wholesome explanation. _Why doesn't he frame them? Why does he lock them away?_ Perhaps this was an eccentric thing only billionaires did.

“She died a while ago,” said Penelope, showing Laura the picture of a pretty woman with curly blonde hair and dimples on her cheeks. “Besides, Harry is delusional. His father talks down to him all the time. He says he hates it but he still takes his dad’s side no matter what. He never learns.”

In the picture father and son were on a ferry on the Hudson with the view of the Manhattan cityscape behind them. “It’s nice they’re dressed in vintage clothes for this.” Harry was in a jean jacket, both of them wore brown trousers, corduroy perhaps. His father had on a newsboy cap, and a blazer over a white turtleneck. “I mean even the picture of her, that hairstyle is very 1960’s.”

Penelope rolled her eyes; vintage anything had no appeal to her whatsoever. “He must have been forced to wear those brogues. He’s a basic prep boy and a sneakerhead he’d never dress up like that even for an old-timey picture.” She handed them to her like they were old receipts to toss in the trash. “He’s vain but he won’t admit it.”

Whilst Penelope went off with her haughty explanations, displaying her deeply embedded sense of white privilege—something in the picture of Harry and Norman caught Laura’s eyes.

“That’s weird.”

“What is?”

Laura held the picture closer to her; “the world trade centre is still standing.”

“What? No.” Penelope inspected it closer too. “That’s not the world trade center.”

“It is.” It sounded crazy, but the evidence was right in front of them;

“Harry would’ve been 1 when this picture was taken if this was before 9/11. It doesn’t add up.”

They both turned at the motion sounds of the elevator ascending. Laura yanked the pictures from her, placed them back in place and shut the safe.

“Oh crap we need to go!”

“You still don’t get it do you?” Penelope to the lift doors and simply waited while Laura scrambled.

“Freeze!” The pair of guards yelled with guns drawn. “This is a restricted zone, how did you get up here?!”

She grinned at them wolfishly. “Put the guns down boys. How rude. Won’t you be a gentleman and let two ladies pass through? We were just looking for the restroom,” she said coyly, her words like long snakes coiling around their free will.

"After we've left, delete all the security footage from this office from the last hour, pretty please." 

They obeyed, dropped their guns and let them pass, undisturbed.


	12. Chapter 12

**PETER **

“I think this should be your last drink.” Peter tried to remove the glass from Harry’s grasp but he swapped it to his other hand and smirked like he’d done a clever magic trick.

_He really is such a dumbass when he’s drunk. _

“Third to last you mean?”

“Not funny.”

“Come on,” he put his arm around his shoulder, “have a sip Peter, loosen up a little.”

Peter folded his arms exasperated. His shoulders only tensed more when he saw Laura flit past him following Penelope of all people.

_Are they friends now? We don’t talk for a day and now she’s besties with Penelope? Her mortal enemy? _His stomach turned. 

Harry followed his gaze. “Ah I see why you can’t,” he grinned like he’d gotten to the bottom of some scandal. “Oh yeah, I forgot to mention she was looking for you,” Harry let go of him. “You should go talk to her.”

Peter exhaled slowly and shook his head. “Nah, I’ve got to take care of you now.” He saw Harry down his current drink faster than he could stop him. For a drunken guy his reflexes were quick, he was snatching his next glass off a waiter’s tray a split second later.

“Okay, I’m cutting you off,” Peter said, more seriously, snatching the drink away. “You’re getting too drunk for a place like this. This isn’t good for you.”

Harry looked thwarted. Then lifted his brows. “Oh I get it now. Did dad get to you too? Win you over with a job offer, the promise of ‘endless opportunities.’” He said with disdain, punctuating his words.

Peter ignored him and tugged his arm along. “Alright, come on.” He knew they had a rocky relationship but he wasn’t going to argue with Harry when he was drunk. He was taller than him but he was quietly stronger and managed to drag him to the lobby. “Let’s get some fresh air, how about that?”

“I don’t want fresh air!” He said petulantly, and tried to shove Peter when a newcomer stumbled through the revolving doors. He was middle-aged, receding hair line, in a white coat with the Osborn logo, glasses broken on his nose-bridge; he looked like he’d been to hell and back with the state of his hair and tattered clothes.

“See Peter? That dude is drunker than me, I’m not—wait...is that Dr. Randall?” Harry exclaimed, squinting at the man.

“Dr Randall?” Peter echoed, his absent internship supervisor. The one Norman had kept busy. Up until this exact moment, he had never met him. Randall appeared afraid and lost; Peter let go of Harry and rushed to him.

“Doctor, are you okay?”

Randall mumbled incoherently. He didn’t know who Peter was either.

“What—what year is it?” He demanded from them, as if his life depended on it. 

“Huh?”

“Did you take something?” Harry asked him.

Randall doubled over and puked on the ground. Peter tried to help him but the doctor’s arm came out to stop him from getting any closer.

“Not another step, I have no idea what radiation I was exposed to, or...or if this is even real.” He cast his gaze to the heavens, as if some monster would descend from there. “He’ll open more, this won’t be the end, he’ll—”

Randall lifted his palm up to inspect it. Peter gaped when he saw it: his hand was vibrating so fast it was a blur, as if it were phasing into non-existence.

Peter rubbed his eyes, concerned there was something obscuring his vision, but it was real.

Before he could decipher what he saw, Randall swerved towards Harry with wild, crazy eyes. “He is not the man you know, son, he is not—“

"Ooi, get away from me, psycho!"

Before he could get his hands on a frightened Harry, a swarm of bodyguards encircled Dr. Randall and hoisted him out of the area as if he needed to be quarantined.

“Wait!” Peter called out hopelessly, jogging after them. “He needs help, not to be locked away, he’s not well! Stop!”

He crashed into the iron-hard broad chest of an Osborn security detail. Peter took a big step back as they led Randall off.

“That’s my father for you, Peter,” said Harry with scorn, appearing beside him. “Always getting rid of the problem in its infancy before it actually becomes a problem. Randall is right, he’s not the man you think he is.”

Peter swallowed uneasily.

What the fuck was actually going on here?

* * *

**LAURA **

Laura worked on her stats homework in the library. When she had a lot of work to get through, her mind would wonder: to Alex Summers, Peter, to the portal she'd gone through. She imagined herself floating in that delicate space between their universe and the next. Everything was still. She had no breathe, no heartbeat, no air in her lungs. Then she would tip back and dive down onto their Earth, the portal sealing up as if it were never there to begin with, leaving Laura to contemplate if she'd dreamt the entire experience.

As much as she tried not to procrastinate and go on Twitter, she found herself distracted when Penelope’s overpowering perfume wafted in.

She overheard Penelope use her powers to compel their kindly, old librarian to give her an extension on a book.

As Penelope sauntered past, satisfied with getting her way. Laura called for her;

“Psst!”

Penelope halted then smirked at her, with the secret they shared. Before the Oscorp fundraiser Penelope would’ve stalked past and ignored her, now she took the seat next to Laura like they were old friends meeting. 

“What is it? I have a winter formal to plan,” she whispered arrogantly.

“What we did at that fundraiser—”

“Mhm?” Penelope checked her manicure, only half-listening to her.

_God sometimes I want to smack her._

“I don’t recall doing anything nefarious at all.”

It was frustrating to deal with her. “If you think Norman Osborn is hiding something, why don’t you confront him and use your abilities?” Laura went on bluntly, she was terrible at the mind games Penelope loved to play.

“He’s a very difficult man to get alone,” she stated haughtily, like it was obvious.

“After what we found in his office—”

“Pfft, it was just a family photo, nothing scandalous.”

“With the world trade center still intact! When Harry was supposed to be one!”

“You are such a geek for conspiracy theories aren’t you? Why don’t you focus on mending your little friendship with Parker?”

Laura scowled at the sudden intrusion. “Why do you care?”

“I used to think you were so boring, but you’ve intrigued me,” Penelope folded her hands in front of her, studying Laura in way that made her uncomfortable. “Tell me, does that super-hero outfit chafe around the crotch area? It must get hot under there.”

Laura’s mind went blank, her body froze like stone. She played it dumb, even though she was screaming on the inside. 

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Her lips curled like a cat, pleased with herself. “Ohhh come on, the girl with the claws, the one flipping around Hell’s Kitchen. It’s you, isn’t it? It’s how you’re immune to my powers, because you’re like me.”

Laura remained steady, she could not show how she fumbled, not to her. “If I had powers, I’d be ringing up the Avengers to join them by now," she said, wryly. 

“You won’t be able to keep up with that lie forever,” said Penelope, shrewdly. “You always tried so hard in everything you do. You being a ‘hero’ actually makes sense. You have this innate black and white morality code that is so exhausting,” she was visibly worn out by that notion, then perked up in her seat. “Anyway, you’ve earned my respect; at least you’re using it to get ahead, we’re not so different.”

Laura should be more concerned at the number of compliments she was receiving from her. 

“I don’t have special powers,” she said evenly, despite the tinge of panic in her heart. “I am dull and normal, stuck in high school just like everyone else with a pile of stats homework.”

“Sure...then how did you know, what to ask me?”

“I met others like you.” _Madeline. Alex. _“And your world is scary, I want no part of it.”

That was her boldest lie; Laura had entirely immersed herself in it.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Penelope said, clearly unconvinced, not that she was doing a great job at lying. “You do realize this changes everything?”

“What do you mean?”

“I thought I was alone, until _you _told me I wasn’t,” she smirked wolfishly, with that scheming, dark gleam to her. “There are other people like us out there. Imagine if we all came together, we’d be unstoppable. We wouldn't have to hide, no one would tell us what to do. From I've read on reddit, you can't die. Imagine what we could do." 

Laura stared at her. _Is Penelope suggesting we band together like one big family?_ _No. That’s too wholesome._ What she suggested was more sinister. _We band together like the dominant race in the world, that’s what she wants. _

She was quiet for a long moment, digesting this. Laura wanted no part in her ideas for their future;

“You know, if you really wanted it,” she continued, lowering her voice. “I could make Peter forget what happened at the science fair. Heck, even make him forgive you for what you did. Ask you out on a date, see what's there.”

Laura reared her head away; “_No_ I don’t want that.”

Penelope raised her brow; this was too entertaining for her.

“You’re a sociopath, you know that?” Said Laura, her eyes narrowed to slits at her.

“Call me whatever you want, I've heard worse. You helped me, I’ll help you, the offer is always on the table,” she responded simply, picking up her tote bag, her eyes hardened; “consider this, Kinney. If people knew what we were, what we could do, we wouldn’t be here. We’d be cut open on metal slabs, dead."

She left. Laura stared at the numbers and symbols in front of her, they became meaningless. She shut her books and sped out of there as the sixth period bell rung, pitched and hollow. She had to find Peter.

* * *

**PETER**

He settled down into his seat for AP English when his phone dinged with messages from Laura. His heart did a somersault. He didn’t open them as Ms Rowena curtly told him to silence it before she confiscated it. He apologised and plopped it into his backpack. 

“_Laura Kinney please report to the principals office.” _The announcement rattled through the school’s old speakers not a minute later. 

Peter sat up in his seat, he peered around baffled. Had she violated some school policy? Laura’s track record thus far, was exemplary, it couldn't be.

Another announcement came: _“Peter Parker please report to the principal’s office.” _

A chill passed over him. Had he heard it correctly? Was it really his name?

A wave of scandalous, ‘_ooh’s,’ _and _‘aah’s,’_ rippled through the classroom. Ms Rowena looked prepared to throw a book at everyone’s face for the continued disruption in her class. Peter was red as a tomato and made sure to get out of there as fast as possible.

Laura’s sneakers squeaked on the lino floors of the hallway as they met at the intersection between the two wings of their school. She smiled stiffly at him and suddenly they were next to each other, keeping a cold distance, the tension around them like lightening.

“Both of us being call to the principal’s office? That can’t be good,” she said, not looking at him, keeping her hands in her hoodie pockets.

Much of his anger towards her had died down, he was glad she started the conversation, the tension chipped away bit by bit. “Is this your first rodeo with the principal?”

“Not my first,” she replied, close-lipped.

He remembered she used to start quarrels with bullies in her old school. "Ah right, you were in a 'fight club.'" 

Her eyes flashed with annoyance at his teasing but she was stifling a wide grin, "it was _not _a fight club."

“Did win you at least?”

She flushed but didn’t look at him. “The short answer is no.”

“Maybe it’s about the science fair prize money.”

Finally she looked at him, confused. “Oh but—”

“You still deserve half of it.”

“No, no I couldn’t,” insisted Laura, shaking her head in staunch refusal.

“We worked on the project together.”

“Peter,” her expression was dire, she stopped. “There’s something more important, it’s about the Oscorp fundraiser.”

“Same here actually, a lot of weird shit happened there.” There was a flood of information he wanted to share with no one else, except her. The relief to unload this burden, the secrets he had on someone who knew him, cared about him (he hoped), made his chest lighter. 

“Hm, I think I could top your story.”

His brow quirked up, he missed the subtle, competition between them. “Yeah... I’m not too sure about that.” He'd like to hear her try to top, 'missing scientist returns with hand becoming a blur, believe's he time-travelled." 

The receptionist poked her head out the door with a stern look. “By all means continue at your leisurely pace students, it's not like we’re all waiting for you.”

They were alarmed to see both of their guardians, Riley and Aunt May there. They couldn’t have looked more different; Aunt May in her turquoise palazzo pants, long red hair, and snazzy jean jacket. Riley in a sharp charcoal pantsuit.

What was more bizarre was another detective appearing.

“What is this about, detective?” Asked Laura’s adoptive mother, a cop too. When Peter visited their home her demeanor was different compared to now, the laugh lines became harsh. She was taller than everyone there, commanding the room. 

“We need the kids to come down to the station.”

“The police station?” Repeated Aunt May, appalled. “You must have them mistaken for other students, Peter and Laura are good kids.”

“M’am we are not mistaken, we need to have a word with them, in the presence of a guardian of course.”

The sergeant did not have the even temperament Aunt May had, “again, what is this about?” She asked, with edge. 

“Alex Summers.”

“Who?” May and Riley echoed, the latter’s sharp gaze fell on them, “do you know two know an ‘Alex Summers?’”

The bullshit poured out of them simultaneously.

“No, we don’t,” said Laura. “Never heard of him.”

“Summers? Does he—does he go here? I—”

Their ‘play-dumb’ act was fooling no one.

“We need to have this conversation down at the station. I’m sorry, it is just formality. We’re looking for Mr. Summers and we have reason to believe your children were the last people to speak with him. They’re not under arrest we just need to know what Mr Summers said in their conversation.”

Peter barely had the chance to sneak Laura a ‘what-do-we-do?’ Look of panic before their respective guardians led them out.

* * *

**LAURA**

The interrogation room was grey, windowless, the steel table cold as ice, the fluorescent lighting uninviting. She nervously chewed her lip, her mind flitting from one worse case scenario to the next. _Alex is safe isn't he? Peter would have told me if something happened to him, something really bad. _Her thoughts flew to Penelope's cautionary tale; _'we'd be cut open on metal slabs. Dead.' _Summers did warn them their kind was being hunted. Short of uprooting their entire lives in New York, they couldn't run away like had. Could they even trust these cops questioning them? Peter must have the same thoughts too. Unfortunately they were both being watched closely and in separate rooms. How were they supposed to get messages to one another to get their stories straight? More so, Laura would never be able to get away from the room with Riley there. She had instincts like a wolf and eyes like a hawk.

_What if the cops have figured out Peter and I are superheros? _Laura sunk into her chair further at the troubling thought. The guilt and fear mixed and stirred in her like dirtied water. _Fuck. _

Riley sat beside her, watching, observant, suspicious, as a colleague of the detective led the conversation.

“Alex Summers is currently wanted for grand theft auto, arson, and child endangerment,” he said. He showed them a picture of Alex. Then he produced footage from the street cameras and from one of the undercover detective’s special body-cameras. It documented everything in that speakeasy from a couple of nights ago, when they were there. 

_Ah fuck. I’m in deep shit now. _She cringed internally. Part of her wished they were savvier with their undercover skills, instead they had been out in the open, a pair of thick-skulled morons for the police to nab right out of school. 

“This was in a speakeasy bar in Brooklyn you visited. You and Mr Parker are both underage. I presume you used fake ID’s to enter.”

“Fake ID’s huh?” Riley angled her head to her, reproachful; she was definitely going to get an earful from her after this.

“Why were you there? And what did he say to you? Remember, my colleague is asking Mr Parker these same questions next door and your stories need to line up.”

Laura barely heard his question, only her shaky breathe and the blood churning past her ears.

_Riley doesn’t know, she doesn’t know what I do, what I am. _

“Laura?” Riley prompted her, concerned at her hesitation and silence. This did not look good at all for her. _She’s going to regret adopting me; she’s going to wonder why she adopted such a good-for-nothing troublesome kid. _

Her left fist was against her thigh, her claws were still sheathed, but she felt the press of them against her jeans, the dullness of them before they pierced skin. Could she cut herself and pretend the table had done it? Buy them some time? _No that would be insane, there's not a sharp edge on this desk. _Her healing powers would stop the bleed within seconds and Riley would see her powers, and it'd be over.

Instead, she focused and tuned in to what Peter said in the room behind her, speaking to the other detective. The walls of the interrogation room were thin enough for that. She caught his voice; it was a croaky with nerves but remained clear and steady;

_“It was just your typical night out and we were being a bit adventurous, maybe a bit too adventurous?" _He gave a shaky chuckle._ "You know how it is, we wanted to experience the city, we had these fake ID’s that true—”_

Laura repeated similar words to her detective and added; “when we met Alex, we had no idea he was a felon, he looked normal, not sketchy at all.”

_“He just seemed like a guy who was—”_

“—A bit lost. He wasn’t interested in making conversation and—”

_“—After the lights cut out in the bar, he was gone.” _

“—So Peter and I called it a night and went home,” said Laura, neatly tying up their story to her detective. “Alex didn’t say where he was going, he was mostly rude, and said I was bothering him, it was barely a conversation. I didn’t even know his name until just now.”

The detective clarified a few details, asked where they got the ID’s from. Laura fibbed and said they made them. They were actually from Harry Osborn, but bringing him into this would be a nightmare.

He let them leave soon after. Riley would wait until they were alone to let the dam burst, say all she held back during the interrogation; Laura was not prepared for it.

Peter and his aunt exited the station after them. Without warning, Riley rounded on Aunt May.

“This was very unexpected and upsetting,” said Riley. “Were the fake ID’s and underage drinking, Peter’s idea?”

Laura exchanged a ‘oh-shit’ look with Peter.

Aunt May’s jaw dropped to the ground, stunned by the accusation. “Excuse me?”

She tried to grab her elbow. “Riley—”

“How dare you accuse my nephew?” Aunt May looked as though she’d been slapped. “It’s your kid you should be asking! She brought Peter home drunk once, he is not the bad influence here.”

“What? When was this?”

Laura cringed, Riley didn’t know about that either; there was so much she kept from her, for good reason. Now it blew up in her face. “A-a few weeks ago, there was a house party, at Penelope Van Houtten's. Everyone was there, remember I told you about it-"

She could see the steam coming out of her ears. “With alcohol?”

The guilt tinged her skin, her cheeks burning. "Yes with alcohol, but I didn't get drunk. I got home safe, I took care of Peter, I was responsible." Since her mother died, it had been so long since anyone scolded her, it was even more mortifying to be in public, in front of her best friend, no less. Riley was making it worse. 

“Clearly you are not communicating with one another,” added Aunt May with a pointed look which only added to the flames.

“Our kids have been friends for months, and you won't share something like this with me?" 

May placed a hand over her chest. “Peter is old enough and I trust him. These issues can very delicate—”

“They were _just_ interrogated by cops! What if cops had shown up to a party like that? Then what?”

Peter shouldered into the argument, prepared to be eaten alive, palms turned outwards. “You know what? It's both our faults. That party was both of our ideas. So were the fake ID’s, there's no need to throw the blame-"

“How about we discipline our children respectively and leave it at that?” Said Aunt May rigidly. “We both raised them with different approaches and there won’t be any use in arguing about it here, _sergeant."_

Riley squinted at her, she could play passive aggressive too. “Very different approaches, perhaps you need to rethink yours." She gripped onto Laura’s school backpack like she was a four-year old. “I will talk to my kid, meanwhile you can keep your nephew away from my daughter.”

Riley was someone who liked having the last word, and she had it. She herded them onto the pavement, no goodbye, leaving Aunt May and Peter shocked.

A few paces from the station Laura shook her off. “Let go, I’m not a freaking toddler!” She spun to her; her ears were hot with humiliation and anger. “You didn’t have to be so rude to them! They’re nice people, and he’s my best friend!”

“Best friend or not, you’re grounded.” She told her, jabbing at her chest. “You won’t be seeing Peter for a long time, young lady, I'll make sure of it." 

Laura had never seen this side of Riley. The warden side of her. She despised it. It made her feel dumb, guilty, and five years younger. _She has no idea what I've done, what I've fought the past few months, how close to death I have been. I'm not as clueless and weak as she thinks I am._ Her adoptive mother was new to all of this parenting stuff she couldn't blame her for that. She approached disciplining her the way her mother used to. 

“Fine you can ground me, but don’t blame Peter. You can't just stop me from seeing him." 

“Yes you’re right. I should blame you,” she wasn’t angry anymore, but her disappointed still stung. "Criminals, Laura, really? Fake ID’s? The drinking? What the hell?" 

"We didn't mean for this to happen!" 

"Yes because you were not thinking! Your old principal said you troubled and opinionated in that public school, he said Mid-Town wouldn't be the right fit for a kid like you."

Laura scoffed, "so you think he's right?"

"Of course not! But how does a kid with 4.0 GPA get into a stupid mess like this? That felon you met in the bar was convicted for _arson_. Do you even realize how much danger there is out there?” She rubbed her forehead, her disappointment making Laura’s shoulder slouch even more. “I’m working day and night to keep you safe, but you’re sneaking out of the house and disobeying and disrespecting me anyway, risking your life!” She threw her palms to the air.

She wasn't entirely wrong, they had been idiots, but despised her words, nonetheless._ I could just tell her the truth, the powers, all of it. It’s make things so much easier, wouldn’t it? _It was on the tip of the tongue, she would yell it to her at the top of her lungs. But she paled at the implications the truth could lead to.

“I can look after myself, Riley,” she said instead, chewing the inside of her cheek and keeping her secret, creating another valley between them by doing so. _How does Aunt May and not freak out every time? Peter’s been to space for crying out loud. _“I knew what I was doing, what happened that night was just a coincidence, we had no idea who that man was!”

Laura had no idea she could be such a good liar, it seems it was easier to lie to someone she loved to protect them from a difficult, life-changing truth.

“Oh I’ve heard that one before,” Riley said coldly, and put a hand on her hips, shaking her head, frustrated. 

"I'm sorry, okay? What else do you want me to say?" Said Laura, crossing her arms, staring at her shoes. She heard Riley give a long weary sigh.

“Only a handful of people know this, but I almost landed in prison once."

Laura's eyes flew up.

“I didn’t, thank God. I was let off with a warning. But I was close, and I wasn’t as lucky as you are, I didn’t live with someone who cared about me, who was also a cop to get me out of those situations. I do not want you to find yourself in those kinds of circumstances ever again, do you hear me?” She held onto Laura’s arms, bending down to level their gazes. “I know this year has not been easy, but it's not just you. Do you ever look around and see what’s happened to the world we live in?"

Laura shifted her head from left to right. She saw homeless Mrs. Langley rolling past with her trolley, the graffiti, the gaunt faces of people who were just plain heartbroken and sad. People who put on a brave mask for work or what remained of their families, dragging their feet through life like grey ghosts. None of them had expected to survive an apocalypse and loose so much in the process. 

Their pain settled heavily like thick ash onto her chest. “Everyday.”

Riley squeezed her arms. “We all have a second chance, I don’t want you to ruin it. Promise me, you won’t do this again.”

She swallowed the stone in her throat, and nodded slowly, regretful and ashamed to have to lie again. “I promise.”


End file.
